Scapegoat
by HazySunray
Summary: Even the Force needs one. Currently, it is Kirani Zhun, supposed-to-be Padawan of the notorious Obi-Wan Kenobi but bested by the Chosen One. Everything just keeps falling apart and a broken heart bruises easily. Many changes await Obi-Wan and Anakin.
1. Chapter 1: Shifting Dust

The longest chapter there is.

* * *

You know that feeling when someone cautions you not to do something, but you go ahead and do it anyway, and afterwards you realise what a huge mistake you've made? It's like when you drink bantha milk, which is known to make you sick to your stomach, but you do it anyway just to look like you have an iron digestive system. Now imagine that, but a hundred times worse.

Imagine me, standing here, eyes tightly shut and hitting my empty head against the wall repeatedly, going 'Stupid, stupid stupid!' Now imagine my Master, meditating on his frustration in the other room and putting up powerful shields to keep me from understanding what he's thinking.

But I suppose that before I go into all of that, I should tell you why I've found myself in this position in the first place. I'd like to just say "Anakin" and be done with it, but things aren't that simple. We must go back to the beginning. So get out your puff pops 'cause this could take a while.

* * *

I am from a Southern Core planet, called Abregado-rae. It's mostly trade-oriented and is known to be a little rougher than other Core worlds. It's also known for its shipping of Bacta. When my parents were still alive, I thought it was a great planet. We thrived and many different species lived on our planet. People were kind and they waved when they saw you in the street. As a four-year-old, there isn't much else you could wish for. I had my mother and my father. And though my brother, Shin Dan, had been taken by the Jedi two years earlier, my parents seemed to cope well with his absence, instead turning their concerns and worries onto me.

But then the Devaronians showed up. Big, devil-like creatures with horns and an evil disposition. They were cruel and heartless and they fought for fun. They caused a riot in my father's pub once. Pulled out blasters and started shooting people if they didn't hand over all the money they had on them. My mother had shoved me into an old, broken cooling-unit and told me not to come out until she let me. I never saw her again after that. Nor my father.

My brother had been seven when a Jedi named Gherrit Laffon had encountered him outside of our father's bar. I don't know the entire story, but apparently Laffon had been captivated by my brother's impressive gift for some or other power which I now know to be the Force, and simply couldn't leave him to remain untrained on a planet with mixed feelings on the governmental monopoly. In case you don't know, most Jedi candidates are taken at the age of four maximum. This is to make sure that the indoctrination of the Jedi mindset can develop completely. But Shin Dan had a most impressive midichlorian count, and therefore had a tremendous power reverberating off him and humming in the air if you listened through the Force.

I can't lie and tell you I had never noticed this, myself. Even as a child, I had clung to my brother, who was like a golden beacon of light wherever and whenever I felt like I needed it. And he had such a sunny personality, as well. He allowed me to crawl over him whenever I pleased, and tug on his hair if I was mad at him, and he would even sleep in the same bed with me sometimes when I was scared of the bedfigs. The first few nights after his depart, my parents had had to convince me time and again that he wasn't coming back but that he wasn't dead, either. I can't tell you how many nights I spent crying, wishing for my Shiin to return.

In any case, I spent over five hours in that broken down unit, waiting for my mother to retrieve me and wrap her arms around me. The person who'd finally opened the door to the unit had had long brown hair which had fooled me into thinking it really was my mother, but before I'd been able to launch myself at the person's midsection and cling tightly, a male face with deep blue eyes had captured my attention and I'd crawled further back into the cramped space.

"Don't be afraid, youngling," he'd said. Primarily, I'd thought he was a native from our planet, where we spoke Basic, since I'd been told that there were few planets where people spoke Basic so fluently. And since he'd been human like me, he'd seemed more trustworthy, as well.

"We only want to help you. There's no need to be afraid."

I'd been curious about his mysterious companion, and had bitten my lip worriedly and glanced about uncertainly for some devilish face that would pounce at me the moment I stepped out of the cooler. But instead, when the man with his blue eyes had moved aside, I'd seen a considerably younger face with grey-green eyes and a dimpled chin. The person had moved toward me and smiled. But the moment I'd been hooked was when he'd slowly waved at me. I had been so relieved to see a smiling face and the universal greeting I was so used to, that I'd jumped out of the unit and attached myself to this person for uncountable hours.

I'm pretty sure I've lost your attention, so I won't delve much deeper into things. I'll just tell you now, that I had been five back then, my parents had been taken by the Devaronians and buried alive in a mass grave not too far from our home, and it had been Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi who had found me. They'd been there to solve a dispute between the Nebula Front and the government. Master Jinn had been drawn to me the same way Master Laffon had been drawn to Shin Dan. And what with their mission being 'complete', they'd taken me back to the Jedi Temple in order to be tested.

* * *

"What is your name, youngling?"

They always ask newcomers this question, even though they already know the answer. I'm sure Master Qui-Gon must have mentioned it before ushering me into a room full of Council members, but alas, in my five-year-old mind, I'd thought that perhaps I would be safer and better off not telling complete strangers my name.

In fact, the only person I had been comfortable enough around to actually call by his name had been Obi-Wan, Master Jinn's padawan. And that's just because I'd clung to him the entire trip home and had called for him every time he took too long in the cockpit or the refresher and I felt lonely.

"You need not fear us, little one," a bald, dark-skinned human whom I now recognize as Mace Windu, had assured me.

"Not little," I had replied, for though I was but small, I was fierce.

The Council members had laughed good-naturedly. Ki-Adi Mundi had leaned forward slightly in his seat and said, "No, indeed you are not. Why don't you tell us your name so we don't have to call you silly things like that anymore?"

"Ki-ra-ni-zhu-un," had been my answer. My name is Kirani Zhun, but as a five-year-old I had trouble pronouncing many vowels in the span of two seconds and so I had taken to singing anything I couldn't mumble.

"Zhun, hmm? Relation to Shin Dan Zhun, in any way?"

My eyes had lit up at the sound of my brother's name. I hadn't seem him in years, and though I had been too young back then to really remember what he looked like, his name had stuck with me forever.

"Siblings, apparently. Master Jinn said she had an air about her. Master Laffon said the same thing about her brother."

"Feel it in the Force, I do. Midichlorian count, been tested it has?" A small, troll-like creature with dreamy eyes had asked. Ah, Master Yoda. If not for him, I probably wouldn't be here, today.

"They're running the tests now, Master Yoda. Master Jinn was certain in his assumptions that she is qualified."

"Then by all means, prove that theory we must."

* * *

They had tested me then and I had passed. I don't know if I passed with flying colours or not. All I know is that if I hadn't passed, I wouldn't be here today. I want to tell you all about my first encounters with Coruscant's people and climate and food, but I'd like to tell you a little bit more about something else, instead.

You can imagine my glee at meeting my long lost brother after three years. He was tall and lanky, even as a ten-year-old, and was apprenticed to master Laffon. This was due to the fact that he had joined the Jedi as a seven-year-old, which had been unheard of until then. Laffon had fought Shin's case and won it with the promise of becoming his Master and teaching him the ways of the Jedi.

Now that's what I'd like to tell you about. Because you know, it's pretty easy as a seven-year-old to say that you want to go on adventures and travel the galaxy with a wondrous weapon at your side and the striking air of a Jedi, but I had been five when I'd been brought to a place I didn't know at all and hadn't given my consent to being brought to in the first place. I had also still been under the impression that my parents were simply missing, misplaced like a pair of old gloves, and would come home one day to find that I was not in the cooling unit where they had left me.

I had not been aware of the kind and loving souls surrounding me, accepting me even though they knew nothing of me and were unused to the presence of an 'unguided' five-year-old. That's what they called me when they thought I could hear them. When they thought I couldn't, they used the slightly more repudiating euphemism, 'misguided'. As if they thought I would bite off a finger if I heard them say something bad about my parents. Because people who weren't raised by the Jedi formed _attachments_ which were forbidden and wrong and would lead to _anger_ which could then lead to the _Dark side_.

But I had not been hostile or a rascal. I didn't stand up for myself because I didn't have to. People didn't bother me, but they didn't let me into their circles, either. I did join the Bergruufta Clan, though. They say that if you are from the Bergruufta Clan, you're loyal and your heart will lead you forward when the way is dark. I had wanted to be from the Bear or the Dragon Clan, had wanted to be brave and tenacious, or stealthy like someone from the Katarn Clan. Even Heliost seemed better to me. Insight is something I still wish I had a stronger grasp on. Squall always sounded funny to me, and though I am swift and try to remain three steps ahead of my foes, I have to admit that the people I know from the Squall Clan are much swifter than I am. In any case, the people from the Bergruufta Clan did welcome me into their little circle, but did so only because they were raised to be kind to newcomers. Not because they thought I was fun to be around.

But there had been someone from the Bear Clan, though. Initiate Sato. Mikeil Sato. Snowy white hair and piercing eyes: amber with streaks of blue running through them. He came from Alpheridies, a planet where the system's red dwarf star emits such strong infrared energy that the people lose their ability to sense and process visible light waves. This caused the people's ability to 'see' through the Force to become stronger and stronger until they were able to do so without any conscious effort. Since Mikeil had been very young when he had been taken by the Jedi, he still sees blurry shapes and figures and therefore refuses to cover his eyes like most people from his planet do. It had been this that set him apart from most of the other Initiates and had made him approach me. He told me about how hard it had been for him at first, as well, fitting in with children who were all able to actually see. Needless to say, we became close friends after that first encounter.

I didn't see my brother very often. He was often taken on missions off-planet and if he wasn't, he had to study or practice with his Master. But he did devote any free time he had to me, and so did I. There were plenty of times when I snuck out of the crèche in the middle of the night and crept through the hallways to the Master-Padawan rooms before entering the correct code for entrance and crawling into his bed when he was there. When he wasn't, I would despondently make my way back to the Initiates' dorms and curl up with my pillow.

As I said, there were many times when he was away, so I often relied on Mikeil to keep me company. But there had been one time when I had been utterly and most terrifyingly alone. I still remember the absolute terror that had coursed through me when I'd realized I had no one to run to. Mikeil had been in the healer's ward, for he had broken his leg, and I had not been permitted to see him because of the late hour and the fact that he needed his rest.

* * *

_Harsh, loud claps and bangs of lightning and thunder resounded off my eardrums and forced me into a corner. I was in a small training room, had been since three hours ago when I'd snuck off to watch my favourite duelists train and hidden in the stands so they wouldn't tell on me. Now, though, I wish I hadn't done so. Unfortunately, after their duel, they had decided to revise all the steps of some or other form I couldn't recognize and I had drifted off. When they'd exited the training salle, they'd locked the door as is customary and I had been trapped in the room._

_Being trapped wasn't new to me. Being trapped for hours with nobody around to get you out wasn't new to me. Thunder and lightning? Those words weren't even in my vocabulary. I had never seen or heard of lightning and the sound of thunder reminded me of the big scary beast from my nightmares who made a lot of noise when he stomped around peaceful, quiescent cities, smashing people between his big toes._

_And so I had pushed myself into a corner, underneath a row of seats, covering my ears and weeping soundlessly into my knees, trying to find solace in thoughts of my brother and Mikeil. But when those didn't work, a feeling of utter dread and terror seized me in an iron grip that squeezed my heart with such bitter, corroding strength that I thought I would pass out._

_But then - "Hey." It wasn't loud or a kind of 'hello'. It was a gentle word, like the soft neighing of a horse, obviously meant to soothe. And because I had been craving for any sound but the clap of lightning or the roar of thunder, I could hear it as clearly as I could hear "I'll trade you my pudding for your greens"._

_"Hey there, little one."_

_I dared to look up for a second, but then a flash of light blitzed across my sightline and I dug my head inbetween my knees again._

_"It's alright, little one, you're safe."_

_"I don't believe that will work, Padawan. Perhaps you might want to crawl under there and get her? For as I recall, you are not missing out on the _little_ part yourself."_

_The new voice made me peek up again but all I saw was the rolling of someone's eyes before another loud rumble wailed against the last restraining efforts I had at holding myself together and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes as I bit my lip so hard it bled. I allowed my shields to wither until they collapsed and the shame I felt at having done so showed with a fresh wave of fat tears that rolled continuously down my cheeks._

_But then a gentle hand warmed my shoulder and another brushed my hair away from my sticky face before drawing me towards a warm body. I don't remember crying openly, but I do remember that I was shivering fearfully and that he held me and shushed me until it stopped. By that point, I had settled myself on this person's lap with my legs crossed behind his back, arms holding on tight for all I was worth. I was clinging, really, to the point of exaggeration, but in my young mind it seemed as though the compactness would save me from being swallowed up by my fear._

_"Sshh, it's alright, you're safe." The voice was calm and sweet and cultured. I had never heard a male voice sound so utterly smooth and silken._

_"Her fear is bleeding through the Force, Obi-Wan."_

_"Yes, Master. Should I construct mental shields around her?"_

_"Anything to keep from alerting other Jedi would be nice."_

_I felt guilty for making these people know of my situation and take care of it, but that only lasted for about a second until another rumbling roar tore through the sky and I started shivering again._

_"Hey," he cooed gently, "heey, you're alright." When those words failed to work, he added, "I'll protect you," and as if to illustrate this point, pulled me closer and placed a hand on the side of my head, turning my face away from my clenched hands and making me look up at him._

_It all came rushing back to me the moment I saw those grey-green-blue eyes I remembered from being rescued from the broken down cooling-unit. And with those memories came the feeling of safety and security I had felt back then as well when I had clung to the person who had smiled and waved at me._

_And even the other voice saying "Obi-Wan" reprovingly for a reason I did not understand back then, I didn't let it deter me and cocooned myself in his calming aura._

* * *

And from that point onward, there were three people I toddled after like a little lost duckling.


	2. Chapter 2: Mulberry Pudding

Age: six

Interests: pudding, duels, games

Dislikes: angry looks, impatience, stinky smells

* * *

"Obi, Obi, Obi, Obi!"

He had barely descended the ramp when I attached myself to his middle, pressing my face into his midrif, causing him to groan and try to loosen my hold on him.

"What's up, Kira?"

"We had pudding today! Mulberry!"

"Mmm," he went, agreeing with my love of pudding as was to be expected. "What else did you do?" he asked, starting a brisk walk to his shared quarters with master Jinn, pulling me along for I had kept a firm grasp on the leg of his trousers.

"I played guess the visual with Mikeil and I won but he didn't mind because he won last time. But then _Mit-Cho_," I said, exhaling loudly and looking up at the ceiling as though a heavy burden had been placed upon my shoulders and Obi got the hint because he was smart in that way and interrupted, "Oh, Mit-Cho, huh?" as if saying that was enough to know what an annoying person the boy was, which was true, but only Obi understood.

"Yeah, he said that I couldn't guess the visual if it were the very Force so I said, "Guess again" and he was like "prove it" so I said "fine" and I did and I beat him too and he was really angry," I summarized, feeling pleased with myself before seeing Obi's eyes darken a little and a small frown settle on his pleasant features.

"You shouldn't rejoice in the anger of others, Kirani."

I had been waiting for the 'you know that' but when it didn't come I knew that it was serious so I nodded and put up my best sad face and said, "Yes Obi," because the worst feeling there was was the disappointment of Obi-Wan.

He was pleased with my answer, for he ruffled my hair and suggested we go for a swim when he's done unpacking and has handed in his report as he has nothing to do for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3: Beware the Chosen One

Age: seven

Interests: pudding, duels, learning new things

Dislikes: impatience, angry looks, falling down

* * *

"Wait up! Mikeil!"

"No running in the halls, Initiates!"

"Yes Master, sorry Master."

"Come on, Kirani!"

"Wait there!"

Mikeil, in all his white-haired, amber-blue-eyed glory, stands holding a special datapad. It's special because it has a little red sticker on it, broadcasting to the world that it shouldn't be in the hands of an Initiate at all. But Mikeil covers it with his thumb so I know we won't get caught and we make our way to the Initiates dorms stealthily, hoping upon hope that no one will stop us.

When we make it to the boys dorms without getting caught, Mikeil pumps his fist into the air, announcing, "Mission accomplished!" before settling on the foot of his bed with the datapad in his lap. I sit beside him and watch as he flips it on, raising the volume so he can hear the information the datapad contains.

_"Legends of the Jedi, chapter one part one section one. Intro."_

He fast-forwards to the good part, releasing the button when his sensitive hearing detects the word 'dangerous'.

_"And he shall bring balance to the Force. And he shall destroy the Sith. Await the Chosen One. Beware the Chosen One. For he is the Sa-_

The door slides open and there stands none other than Shin Dan, eleven years old and mature beyond his years. Master Laffon did that to him and it upsets me. But a chance to see my brother is as good as any.

"Dan Zhun-Ah!"

"Ni Zhun-Ih," he replies, spreading out his arms to embrace me. The Jedi are usually against open signs of affection, but Shin Dan likes physical affection so I allow myself this slip-up. Besides, if have to admit it, I do like the feeling of his warmth engulfing me.


	4. Chapter 4: Missed Chance

Age: seven

Interests: pudding, duels

Dislikes: impatience, angry looks, falling down

* * *

I slip and fall for the fifth time today. An icy glaze has covered the ground outside and since the younger Initiates have to spend at least three standard hours outside to connect with the Living Force, I have spent at least two and half hours slipping and falling on my behind. It bothers me that the Force is kind enough to let me forget about my cold hands, but that it wouldn't warn me before I slipped and fell. Almost as if it wants me to.

But then I hear a soft chuckle and I tip my head backwards to take in the sight of an old, dark-skinned human with gentle eyes.

"Your neck will cramp up," he warns me.

I get up and straighten out my outer tunic.

"You are the youngest Zhun, are you not?"

"Yes sir. Kirani Zhun."

"Hm. You have a very refined skill, there. Do you make a habit of falling down, young one?"

"I try not to," I state, chewing my bottom lip. But he just chuckles again and asks, "Have any of the other Masters taken a particular interest in you, youngling?"

"Mmm...I dunno'. What's a particular interest?"

"It's when they give you hints that they would like to have you as their future Padawan." I like how straight-forward he is with his explanation. He doesn't act like the topic is taboo or should be spoken about in hushed tones behind the bushes.

"I don't think so," I reply.

"Well then, how would you feel about becoming my apprentice when you're a little older?"

I smile up at his friendly face, but I politely refuse, "I'm sorry, Master, but I have to wait for someone else."

"Ah, I see." And it really seems like he does, for his eyes crinkle a little around the edges and his smile becomes a little more sincere. "Then you should. Don't get discouraged when it takes a little longer than you expected, young one."

"I won't!" I promise, beaming up at the first person who understands the feeling of certainty in the Force that no one else ever seems to feel at the same time as you.

He smiles back and puts a kind hand on my head, saying, "Well, I must be on my way, then. Haven't got the time to waste nowadays, I'm afraid. May the Force be with you, young one, and the person you're waiting for, as well."

I smile back, brightly. "And with you."


	5. Chapter 5: Not me

Age: eight

Interests: pudding, duels, mindtwisters

Dislikes: loneliness, crying, puddles

* * *

"Kira! Kira, look, look! Hayf-Tio 2.0!"

Minearl holds up a mindtwister that shouldn't be out until next month.

"Woah! Where'd you get that, MinMin?"

"Master Keet-Paol gave it to me! He said he saw it on Bespin, in Cloud City, and he got it for me 'cause he remembered I like them!"

A flash of indignation hits me but I mask it well and smile as I gleefully say, "That's awesome! He really wants you as his Padawan, I'm sure!"

Minearl flushes up to the roots of her short jet-black hair and looks down, embarrassed. "I'm sure he just felt like being nice to a random Initiate. If he hadn't spoken to me that afternoon, it would've been someone else," she replies, humble as ever.

But it's not true. I know that master Keet-Paol Rut has been keeping an eye on MinMin for a while, now. And though I'm only eight, I feel the worry and agitation with every thought of 'maybe I won't get picked' and 'perhaps I should work harder so I pop out more'. And even though a part of me knows that Obi is too young to be my Master when I'm twelve, I'm sure some sort of arrangement can be made to see to it that we go on a lot of missions together and he can act as my sort of 'mentor'. It doesn't have to be written down or anything. Obi understands. He's smart like that.

"You want to try it out?" Minearl offers, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Sure. How many mind maze levels has it got?"

"Thirteen. But it's said that if you manage to do the thirteenth one in under ten seconds, a bonus level appears all of a sudden and if you win that one, you'll get the codes to all the levels in Hayf-Tio 1.8!"

"Well let's get this thing on, then!"


	6. Chapter 6: Remembrance

Age: nine  
Interests: pudding, duels

Dislikes: crying, losing

* * *

"Stop it, Kira! If you keep doing kata's beyond your level, you'll injure yourself," Mikeil says, bossing me around.

"Dan Zhun-Ah says I'm a natural," I reply, as if that's a good enough argument. But it brings Mikeil off his original track of thought and he asks, "Why do you always call him that, anyway?"

"What?"

"His name is Shin Dan. Why do you call him Dan Zhun A?"

"First of all, it's Zhun-Ah, you have to say them together. And secondly, that's just the way it worked on my planet. You take the last syllabled part of the person's name and then you add their last name, and then if you're a boy you get 'ah' at the end and if you're a girl you get 'ih'. You can say 'ah' to girls too, though, but it's nicer to say 'ih'. Oh and you say 'ih' to very young people as well."

"You sure remember a lot about your home planet."

Of course I do. I was five when I was brought to the Temple. I remember the entire lay-out of my old neighbourhood as clearly as the colour of my mother's eyes.

The thought sends a shivery jolt up my spine and I look up at the ceiling when I feel the tears lubricating my eyes.

"Kirani?"

Poor Mikeil's worried about stupid old me because he hasn't seen my cry in ages. I do not cry easily. I didn't even cry that time I broke my ankle and sprained my wrist simultaneously. But that could have been from the shock.

I decide to play with Mikeil's head a bit. And perhaps cover up the reason for my tears.

"Not even one silly little kata?" I ask in the most wittily dramatic voice I can manage.

He shoots me a mock-annoyed look and lightly smacks me on the shoulder.

"Tell you what," he states, "if you can complete the third, fourth and fifth kata of the last series, I'll give you my nilla pudding tonight."

"That's not a challenge, Mikeil. You know I would do anything for nilla pudding."


	7. Chapter 7: Most splendid

Age: ten

Interests: duels, pudding

Dislikes: let-downs, slip-ups

* * *

"Did you see that?!" Geltiss cries out, nearly smacking me in the face when he stretches out his arms and flails them about wildly before pointing at the duelling duo.

"That's impossible!" MinMin agrees with the Zygerrian, covering her mouth with a little pale blue hand.

"Most extraordinary," our Samuac friend, Les, agrees. He nods sagely, red eyes shut.

I sigh. Sure, it's a cool fight, but I wanted to watch Obi and Master Qui-Gon duel. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice is urging me to pay attention and learn something from this battle, but my impatience outweighs my hunger for knowledge and I haven't seen Obi fight since he left for his mission three whole months ago and now that he's finally back I've been dying to have him teach me some moves.

As if I needed a reminder anyway, Ferus Olin walks up and stands behind me, to my left, still able to see over MinMin's head and my shoulder.

"We could learn a few things from those two," he comments, pushing back the golden streak of hair that falls in front of his eyes and letting it mingle with the ordinary brown locks sprouting from his scalp.

"Stars!" Geltiss gasps, gripping the railing tightly as he broadcasts his enthusiasm. "She just blocked Cho mok in Shien/Djem So!"

"A very aggressive attack," Les remarks.

"Sometimes it is for the best to be aggressive," Mikeil replies.

"As long as your emotions don't rule you," Ferus puts forth.

I sigh again. "Spare us your lectures," I mutter darkly, chin cupped in one hand as I gaze ahead, irked by Ferus' constant need to put us in our place. All he does is quote the Code, as if we all haven't studied it enough to know the entire thing out of our heads by now. Okay, and I'm annoyed by the fact that the entire Council dotes on him like he's some sort of work of art. I mean, so what if he's mature? Maturity isn't everything.

MinMin's absolutely horrified expression snaps me back to reality and the severity of my words suddenly hit me. Surely, Ferus will use this childish outburst against me whenever the occasion calls for it, and I have brought it all upon myself this time, just because I was awaiting a match that was going to happen at a time that inconvenienced my impatient mind. How un-Jedi-like of me.

I give Ferus a short, small bow in apology, hastily scrabbling the words "Sorry, don't know what came over me," out of my cluttered mind.

Mikeil grins stupidly, but to his credit he adds, "She hasn't had any pudding in an entire week." And even though Ferus doesn't know much about me, he knows enough to smile at the comment and let my rude remark slide.

Luckily, the match ends and finally, and Master Jinn and Obi-Wan enter the arena. I watch, mesmerized, as they bow graciously and start off strongly, pure strength demanding the upperhand. But as usual, Obi-Wan's grace and fluidity manages to get better of Master Jinn's imposing figure and experience, pushing the Master to use his speed as well as his mind.

My friends are making loud and excited exclamations, but I barely hear them as I am so in-tune with the duel and my most favourite Master-Padawan unit.

It's a close call, but eventually Master Jinn's cunning talent manages to make Obi-Wan try and block a feint to the left which then becomes a diagonal slash toward his collarbone in a flurry of a hazy movement and bright green light.

The blazing emerald blade kisses the skin of his collarbone briefly, but the searing energy burns only mildly as the blades have been specially set for the match. I catch the wink Master Qui-Gon grants Obi and the returned smile on Obi's face as they face each other and bow again. The crowd claps loudly and I join them, showing my enthusiasm with vigor.

I take the stairs three at a time, bounding off to the changing rooms to await Obi. I ignore a random young Knight who gives me a funny look as he exits the room with a towel slung over his shoulder and position myself next to the open doorway, pressed to the wall so no-one can see me.

"- didn't see it coming at all," I hear Obi's voice, and minding my timing, I pounce on him the moment he enters the changing room.

He's mildly shocked, but doesn't broadcast it. Instead, he smiles softly and says, "Hello there, Kira," as if the three months that I haven't seen him were three hours. But of course, Obi is smart in that way that says that time is only a part of the mind or something like that.

"Initiate Zhun," a voice behind me greets me, and I look up with an embarrassed flush on my cheeks, noticing the imposing figure of Master Qui-Gon Jinn. His blue eyes are alight with humor, though, so I know I'm in the clear. For some reason I just never rubbed the right way with this man. I admire him, and I know how much Obi looks up to him so in a way I'll like him just because Obi likes him, but there has always been something about him that I have been unable to grasp.

Shin Dan, on the other hand, seems completely comfortable in Master Jinn's presence, and sometimes even jokes around with him or steals food off his plate. It's strange to see the two of them interact, especially since they have no real connection whatsoever. It's not as if they go on missions together often, and Master Jinn isn't that close with Master Laffon, either. Their whole relationship baffles and confuses me. But whenever I ask Shin Dan about it, he just tells me something annoying like, "Someday you'll get it," and leaves it at that.

"Is there a particular reason as to why you're in the men's locker room?" he asks, a curious sparkle brightening the mystical blue of his eyes.

"Yes Master Jinn," I answer, straightening up to at least try and exhibit a semblance of Jedi etiquette. "I wanted to congratulate you both on your most intriguing and awe-inspiring match. It was simply sensational watching the two of you engage in combat."

A sudden bark of laughter interrupts whatever else my brilliant mind had the courage (stupidity) to cough up, and a more composed chuckle from Obi-Wan adds to the bite of the insult.

"Is there a problem?" I ask, raising a brow at Obi-Wan, for I would never dare even do so much as scrunch my nose at Master Qui-Gon.

"Oh, nothing Initiate Zhun, pardon my poor manners. We feel most appreciative toward your kind words," he replies.

"Don't tease your future Padawan, Obi-Wan."

My face flushes with heat and I look away, not sure how to react to this comment. I had always felt like that was the only path the Force would lead me on, but I hadn't known that others thought so, too.

"Master!" Obi-Wan objects, though not without a good deal of joviality in his voice.

"You know it is true, little one. I despair the time we must go our separate ways, but at least I'll know that I leave you in capable hands."

Master Jinn settles his big hands on my shoulders and I struggle to release the tension in them. The thought of being Obi-Wan's apprentice still fills my stomach with jitters, even though I've fantasized about it plenty.

I may be ten now, and many of my friends have already been taken on as Padawans, but I am willing to wait for him. I have been willing since the moment I met him.

"Getting a little sentimental, Master?" Obi-Wan asks, smirking.

Master Jinn cuffs the side of his head lightly and Obi chuckles. He may be only twenty-four, but I'm sure that by the time I am thirteen and he is twenty-seven, things will be different. He will be ready.

I will be ready.

It will be most splendid.


	8. Chapter 8: Shin Dan departs

Age: ten

Interests: duels, pudding

Dislikes: let-downs, slip-ups

* * *

"Ni Zhun-Ih," Shiin starts, patting me on the head as I settle down to sleep in the Initiates quarters, practically leaning on my brother who, as usual, exudes such a strong radiance of calm and belonging that I am drawn to it. "I'm going to go on an extensive mission with Master Laffon."

"Extensive?" I ask, yawning.

"I will be gone for a little over a year."

A flash of worry goes through me and I look up at him fearfully. "But..." And yet I can not find the right words to say which would give me consent to make him stay here with me. He gives me a look that means much the same.

"Your birthday!" I utter, trying to convey my disagreement with the matter in a pitiful and childish way. "You will turn fifteen while you're away on your mission. Who will celebrate it with you?"

He laughs in an entirely too casual and carefree way. "I'm sure Master Laffon will remember to wish me a happy birthday."

"And what about the gifts and your friends? You'll be all on your own and Master Laffon will probably make you work on silly things and study about the planet's atmosphere and whatnot!"

"Kira!" Shin suddenly exclaims, standing up abruptly. "How could you say such a thing? Of course that's what Master Laffon would and _should_ do! I could not ask anything else of him."

The words do not disappoint me, yet they do not fill me with satisfaction, either. There is something sad about the way he has accepted his part in the galaxy and what he must do in order to play his part in the scheme of things. And yet I have to wonder if the Force does not require him to rejoice the day of his birth and express it through laughter and celebration.

But then something else strikes me.

"And what about my birthday?"

"What about it?"

"You will not be here to give me my birthday hug. Or to play mindtwister with me." It's a selfish thing to ask; my happiness over the safety of other beings, but I know that the Council could have sent any other Master-Padawan team on this mission.

"Do you really believe the Council so idle to not think these things through, Kirani? Or do you wish for them to consider everyone's birthday before sending them off on missions?" Sometimes I wonder if Shin Dan is capable of reading my mind. "They do not send teams off simply because they're available, Kirani. You should know better than that. I am quite disappointed in you."

I can feel moisture in my tear ducts and a prickling sensation in my chest, but I simply look down and say, "I'm sorry, Shin Dan."

"As you very well should be. As punishment, I don't think you should have any pudding until I return."

I look up, outraged. Apparently, he had been waiting for the look on my face, for he burst out into laughter upon seeing it.

He gives my hair a gentle ruffle. "Alright, alright, two weeks, then."

Two whole weeks is still a very big deal, but I wisely keep my mouth shut. I am rewarded when he pulls me into a hug and says softly, "I will miss you, Ni Zhun-Ih."

"So will I."

"Be better than good, alright? Be the most exemplary student the entire Temple has ever seen. I promise time will fly by."

"Dan Zhun-Ah."

"Hm?"

"May I comm. you on your birthday?"

He smiles and places his hands on my cheeks, looking at me intently. "You bloody well _must_ comm. me on my birthday, you cheeky little snot!"

I giggle and push him away, trying to shove him off my bed.

"Oh so now you're eager to get rid of me, huh?"

And the horseplay is on.


	9. Chapter 9: He didn't choose me

Age: eleven

Interests: duels, pudding, getting good grades

Dislikes: let-downs, getting bad grades

* * *

I had been dozing off in the Initiates' dorm when it happened. At first, it was just a glimpse. Just a small shock of energy that quickened the beat of my heart. But that started to spread, slowly, through my veins. It was a heavy feeling. A feeling of dread and uselessness and pain. Just a minute ago I had been happily dreaming about a beautiful garden with Force energy just about singing and dancing around, and now I felt for all the Universe like a worthless, pitiful sentient being. And then I realized where the feeling was coming from.

Trying to accelerate my speed with the Force, I nearly tripped over my own feet more than once and slipped through the Temple halls without a care for who saw me in such a panic. This was more important than that. He was more important.

I can't say that I had been expecting him to be smiling when I arrived, but for some reason, I had been hoping he would be covering up his emotions the way he always did when he was in public. We were standing in a more remote hallway, given the small amount of beings who stayed on his level in the Temple, and he was standing with his back to one of the windows, allowing the heat of the sun to warm his back.

One person happened by and saw him, but instead of having the decency to at least look away and pretend that he hadn't, the man walked up to him and smiled, talking with animosity and cheer. When he answered, he spoke the way he always did, but the dulcet undertones in his voice were lacking, having cracked under the pressure of emotion. This person didn't seem to notice, though, and continued speaking with him for a good two minutes before clapping him on the shoulder and bidding him farewell.

I walked up to him slowly. Normally, he could sense me from a mile off, but now his entire stance seemed defeated and uncaring, like he just couldn't give a Sith's ass who saw him right now.

I wish I were taller, so I could wrap my arms around him and seem like I was doing it for him instead of me. Alas, this will have to do.

The moment my arms are attached to his middle, he seems to recognize me, for he doesn't even waste a second before returning the gesture and inhaling sharply, like I shouldn't see his tears. We slide down the wall a little and I let him do nothing but squeeze the feelings out of him for a while as I try my best to rub motherly little circles on his back but most probably failing to seem anything but childish. If he's bothered by it, it doesn't show.

We half-crouch on the floor for quite some time before I have the courage to ask, "What happened?" because I know better than to ask if he's okay.

"He ch..." but he needs another deep breath before he can continue.

"He chose the boy over me."

Who? What boy? Was it Master Jinn? What did he do, choose someone else to duel with him? Oh dear. That's not a good reason to be feeling so terribly worthless.

But when the sobs finally do escape and he hides his face in my shoulderblade, lifting me a little higher so no sound escapes but his ragged breathing, I suddenly realize just how drastic the situation is.

My scatterbrained self wants to ask a million questions and say a million different things. 'Why would he do that?' 'Is he insane?!' 'Who is this _boy_?!' 'I'll punch that broken nose of his into his skull!' 'You're better off without him!' 'Who does he think he is?!' 'Do I have to bury someone?'

But instead the words that come out of my mouth are, "They invented a new pudding flavor." I feel about ready to smack myself when the words have left my mouth, and the awful silence that follows them is more than enough to make me want to walk up to the healers and ask for a new brain.

But then he laughs. It's a hollow sort of laugh, almost a throaty chuckle, but he laughs nonetheless.

"Oh really? What did they call it?"

"Bulnerry."

"Sounds atrocious."

I smile and try to ignore the tear tracks on his face when I look at him. "It is," I say, though I have yet to try the flavour and am sure to love it. The atrocious thing is the terrible deed of his Master, and I feel just about ready to blast a hole through the man's head.

I can feel everything he's thinking through the Force. 'What's so special about the boy anyway? What's so bad about me? Why couldn't he just tell me in person first instead of tearing me down in front of the Council? Haven't I always been good to him? I have always cared about him. For a while I thought he felt the same way. Why didn't he care? Why? It's me. I'm worthless. The boy is brilliant. He's kind and noble and high-spirited and outspoken. He's everything a boy that age should be. And not to mention his high midichlorian count. The Chosen One. Well, he's definitely been chosen, alright. Qui-Gon never wanted me, anyway. He didn't want me from the start. He didn't choose me. He didn't choose me. He chose the boy. He chose the boy over me. He chose a boy he's known for a couple of days over the person who has been dedicated to him all his life. He didn't choose me.'

The tears escape his eyes again with the last thought. 'He didn't choose me.'

I muster up the courage to say gently, "I chose you."

He looks up at me wildly, probably under the assumption that his thoughts had been spoken aloud. In a way, they might as well have.

"I chose you," I repeat, embracing him again for I would feel like the biggest moron in the world if I were looking him straight in the eye right now.

He doesn't say anything. The feelings of dread and futility and loneliness still linger, but they have been dampened slightly. It's enough. I could not ask of him to put me on Qui-Gon's pedestal in his heart. I have known since long ago that he thought of me as a fun companion to have on lonely days, and that he thought the Universe of Master-Jinn. I have known since forever that he would give his life for his Master. That he would do _anything_ to make the man, who has been a father to him all his life, happy. And I know now that there is nothing I can do that could take all the pain away. But I lit a small candle in the darkness of his devastation.

And that's enough for me.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry if broken-down Obi makes you irritated/sad. You're probably frustrated that my OC was there for him instead of Quigee coming to say sorry but hey, I need her to be important for him, okay?! xD  
Don't worry, I mean, it's not like you don't know already that he's not going to choose her in the end, anyway.


	10. Chapter 10: Promises

Age: eleven

Interests: duels, languages, pudding

Dislikes: let-downs, getting bad grades, dust

* * *

It was in the air. I could taste it before I even had to see. I was never overly fond of him, but he had always been kind to me and he'd never turned me away when I came to see his apprentice.

Now, there was no-one to ask.

I still don't know whether I should be mad at him for what he did to Obi-Wan, or if I should honor the memory I had of him before he discarded his apprentice so abruptly. No matter how many times Obi-Wan tries to tell me that Master Jinn knew what was best for the Universe and the Light side and all of that. No matter how many times he tells me that he was ready for the Trials anyway and master Jinn just didn't want to hold him back, I will always feel a sense of animosity toward this man who darkened the heart of the person I admired most.

For my Obi-Wan still feels undeserving of many things. He still feels insecure and unsure of his place in the Galaxy. And it's his fault. I don't know whether I should be happy that he's gone or sad that I can't punch him in the face.

But when I see the empty expression on Obi-Wan's face, I realize that it's not up to me to decide that what he did was right or wrong. It's not up to me to decide whether I want to honor his memory or spit on his ashes. All I have to do, is be there for Obi. I have to give him the strength he has always been willing to give to me.

"What's going to happen to me, now?" a boy who is standing to his right asks. He isn't speaking very loudly, but since my gaze was fixated on Obi-Wan, I had seen the boy's mouth move and caught the words.

"You will be a Jedi, Anakin. I promise you that."

Anakin? So he's 'the boy'? He's the Chosen One?

How will Obi make sure that Anakin becomes a Jedi? Anakin was supposed to be apprenticed to Qui-Gon. The only person who knows the Master well enough to pass on his teachings is Obi-Wan himself. So who will they pick to take over Anakin's training? Master Yoda?

I do wish Obi-Wan hadn't made such a promise to the boy. There's no way he can possibly keep it.

* * *

A/N: BAM! Plot-twist! Next up: angst!


	11. Chapter 11: Time to break

Age: eleven

Interests: pudding, reading

Dislikes: disappointment

* * *

The day started out pretty well. I was able to look up some interesting things in the Archives, I had a pretty good breakfast, nobody argued during the 'fresher-cycle, I beat my high-score at Hayf-Tio 1.88 and Mikeil gave me his Ancient Planets homework to copy since I'd forgotten to do mine.

So all in all, I'd had a pretty nice morning.

I want to tell you that what followed was something that simply tore my world in two, but it did way more than that. I want to say 'and after that my life was ruined' but that would be too simple. I want so badly to say 'something horrible happened' so that something good could have happened afterwards, something which made me stronger. But I can't say that. I can't make it seem like a small bump in my life that I got over easily and quickly. I can't make it seem like a problem that I got over at all.

So I won't name it. I won't call it anything.

"Kirani. Meet my apprentice; Anakin Skywalker."

I remember how everything physically stopped moving. I remember how everything around me seemed to shut down. And I remember how quickly my brain had told me to ignore the feeling of tremendous internal bleeding in my chest and to act appropriately. But I had been unable to do any more than bow down low and say, "Pleased to meet you." I hadn't looked at either one of them. I had turned and walked away, trying to figure out what had just happened. Trying to figure out how I had just made myself do that without crying and screaming and raging.

Upon entering the desolate Initiates dorms, I had started walking back and forth, in circles, staring up at the ceiling, gazing outside, glaring at the ground, at my fists, at my fingertips... At a certain point I had started banging my head against the wall and had only stopped when my knees were too weak to keep me standing. I'd curled up into a ball at the foot of my bed and wrapped my arms around my legs, pressing them close to my chest so it wouldn't hurt as much to breathe. I don't remember crying. I don't remember seeing much of anything at all. I don't remember thinking of anything at all, either, truthfully.

The Force, which had always been a blanket of warmth wrapped tightly around my body, seemed nonexistant. The past in which I had been laughing and thinking of everything and nothing seemed nonexistant. It was almost as if an invisible line had been drawn between 'then' and 'now'. 'Then' being back when I was happy. 'Now' was the biggest disappointment I had ever been faced with.

And the only thing I could really think, with or without a deeper meaning, was, 'Why?'

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! I was wondering if any of you were enjoying this story xD Please let me know if you think it's too boring or if Kirani's too much of a Mary Sue!


	12. Chapter 12: Regression

Age: eleven

Interests: unsure

Dislikes: crying

* * *

"Here."

Mikeil holds out a nilla pudding. My stomach churns.

"No, thank you."

"Take it."

_I don't want it._ For some reason I don't feel like speaking, lately.

"I kept it for you."

I shake my head and stand up, getting rid of my half-eaten plate of food before exiting the cantina. We eat at a different hour than we used to. At least, I do. Mikeil and MinMin usually join me, to keep me company. Not that I'm good company at all, nowadays.

Mikeil catches up with me. He doesn't start a conversation because he knows my input will be a string of meaningless, empty words, anyway. I want to feel bad for being this awful to him, but I can't summon the effort.

"Take a right." I have Mikeil's excellent 'Force-sight' to thank for all the times I have been able to avoid _them_.

"Master Keet-Paol Rut has made MinMin the offer."

"Good." It doesn't sound like much, but Mikeil knows me well enough to know that the word has taken a lot out of me.

"Not that we didn't see it coming," he adds.

"I didn't."

We both know I'm not talking about MinMin, so he doesn't answer.

"Initiate Zhun."

I turn. It's Shin Dan, standing there in all of his Jedi glory, one year older and one year wiser. And I, it appears, have regressed to a point of disconnection.

He walks up to me and crouches a little to look me in the eye. He has grown a lot since I have last seen him. Or perhaps I have shrunk.

He seems to see something (or nothing) in my eyes, and puts a hand on my head before demanding, "Come with me."

I don't look at Mikeil or tell him I'll see him later. I simply follow my brother without a backward glance, staring instead at the small of Shin Dan's back, where his Jedi robe folds and unfolds as he walks.

When we're in his bedroom, he makes me sit down on the bed. He crouches down in front of me and places his hands on my knees, looking at me intently. I gaze right back, unfeeling and uncaring in the eyes of any beholder. On the inside, though, I'm devastated.

"I heard about Obi-Wan's decision."

The name itself feels like a leaden weight pressing against my chest. Something acidic coats the back of my throat and I look away so Shin doesn't see the glistening of my eyes.

"Anakin is the Chosen One, Ni Zhun-Ih," he says, as though these words hold any more meaning to me than the fact that Obi Wan chose him over me. I should care more about peace in the Galaxy and balance in the Force, but I can not let go of the idea that any other Jedi Master could have trained this boy I don't know anything about.

"Who is the best Jedi Master in this Temple?" Shin Dan asks, and I know why. He wants me to tell him it's Obi-Wan, because I've always thought it was Obi-Wan. Because even back when he was just Obi, I knew he would do incredible things.

I just didn't know he would do things that were incredibly painful.

"Master Yoda," I answer.

"Very well. Who comes after that?"

"Master Windu."

"And who comes after?"

"Master Mundi."

"Now you're just naming Council Members."

I want to be my old angry self and demand, 'What do you want me to say, then?!' but I honestly can't bring myself to feel the emotion. It's not Shin Dan I'm mad at.

"Kirani," he says gently, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear, "don't you think that the one who will bring balance to the Force deserves the best Master there is?"

"I get it."_ He's worth more than me_.

"And Obi-Wan made a promise to his Master. Master Jinn's dying wish was that Obi-Wan train Anakin."

I hadn't known this, but the info did little for my heart. The man who had abandoned him for the boy, who had made him feel that awful, had made him do the same to me.

And the worst part was that he didn't even seem to realise it, himself.

Shin Dan embraces me, and I return the gesture, but the warmth of my brother's hold is gone. The warmth that used to dance around him as though he were the son of the Force itself is gone.


	13. Chapter 13: Master Dennen

Age: eleven

Interests: duels

Dislikes: crying, weakness

* * *

Sweat beads on my brow as I mechanically weave my way through a rigorous set of kata, driving Ferus into a corner before faking a move to the left and performing a swift uppercut to the right just to keep him on his toes. He manages to block at the last moment and flips over my head to reclaim his footing. I don't allow him the opportunity and swipe at his feet, making him jump away. He blocks as I attack and doesn't see my next move coming as he has just landed and is not expecting a blow from behind. I side-step his saber and aim for his back, stopping just an inch away from his tunic so he doesn't have to go through the trouble of getting a new one.

As we bow to each other, an unfamiliar individual claps for us and I straighten up to see who it is. Male. Human. Standing in the bleachers. He has dark brown hair, almost black, and pale whitish eyes. His nose is straight and small and his lips are thin and deep red. His high cheekbones give his face a gaunty look and he has a bit of stubble around his chin. He has a fairly usual frame, not too tall but not too short, usual Jedi musculature and a serenity about him that indicates a deep connection with the Force.

"Padawan Zhun, am I correct?" he asks. I'm surprised by how youthful his voice sounds. He's probably one of those people that looks older than he is.

"Yes. Pray, who are you, Master?" I'm hoping that flattery will get me somewhere, because honestly, there is no way that he is a Master already, but it's the least I could do since I don't even know his name.

"My name is Xaren Dennen."

So he is a Master?

"It isn't unusual that people forget my name, so do not fret for you haven't been the first to do so. I am often away on long missions, which is why many people who pass through here have never seen me in their lives. But I have decided to return to the Temple for a while and perhaps see if I can find a good candidate to become my apprentice." It seems like a hint and I feel like I should take it, but the proper words don't come up and all I can do is gaze at him uncertainly, waiting for him to continue his explanation.

"Your fighting skills are commendable," he prompts, but I still don't know what to say besides, "Thank you, Master Dennen."

He nods and takes his leave with the words, "Keep up the hard work."

* * *

A/N: Does anyone know how to leave more space between the lines? Sounds like a metaphor. I mean this literally, people. The line breaks are way too close to the text for comfort xD


	14. Chapter 14: birthday bashing

Age: twelve

Interests: duels

Dislikes: crying, weakness

* * *

It's my twelfth birthday. Shin Dan is out on a mission with Master Laffon. MinMin is off with her new Master, as well. And Mikeil is sure to be chosen very soon, too, by Master Elio Hara. That's why he's currently showing off his acrobatic skills in the training salle, trying to get noticed by her. I sigh and lean my forehead on my forearms, closing my eyes.

I don't know whether it's because it's been forever (or, at least, if feels that way) or if it's because I have subconsciously blocked his Force presence in my mind, but when I hear his voice from not too far away, it causes a sort of adrenaline rush to bolt through me.

It takes me a moment to realize that he was speaking to me, and for my brain to catch up with the words and remember them.

"Haven't seen you in a while."

He adds the correct amount of accusation to make me realize that he knows I have been avoiding him.  
_ So you just went ahead and let me. _

"Mm." I say, not looking at him. Instead, I focus on some of the aerials Mikeil's performing, for I know that if I were to look into those blue-green-grey eyes, I'd start bawling.

He sits down beside me and leans his forearms on the railing as well. "Mikeil's getting better and better with the day," he remarks. It's not something he just says because it's something people say, but because it's actually true. Mikeil seriously improves his skills every single day and it's noticeable, too. If he makes a mistake one day, he won't be seen making it the next. Same goes for things that he can already do, and brilliantly too.

I don't reply. I can feel him looking at me, now, but I haven't seen him since 'that day', and I don't feel like changing that now.

Clearly, he has different ideas, because he moves into my direct line of sight and tries to look me in the eye but it's not him who's incapable of doing it.

"I heard you've improved a lot, as well."

_Yes. And not thanks to you._ The thought isn't as agressive as I had hoped it would be. Instead, it's rather melancholy and worn; I already know this, and I've known it for a long while.

"Kirani, I don't enjoy talking to myself." Ah, so he has become a Master, after all. Even uses that 'masterly' tone of voice. But it has no effect on me, as he is not _my_ Master.

He sighs irksomely when I remain unresponsive and turns his head away. I can't stand it anymore and I can not fight this battle with myself any longer so I look at him quickly, fully intent on making it a quick once-over to see if he's healthy and okay and if the colour has returned to his eyes yet or if they're still that shallow grey that they became when Master Jinn passed, but his gaze locks mine and holds it firmly. There is, indeed, a sort of brightness that has returned to his eyes, and they have turned rather blue lately, but they still speak of current hurt.

"I have missed those eyes."

It takes me a full five seconds to realize that it was him who said it and not me, but even when I fully comprehend the words, no heat rushes to my face. I already know what he thinks about me and obviously it's nothing worth becoming happy over.

Besides, he says it like he's talking to a puppy he hasn't seen in a while that used to follow him around. Though I suppose that's kind of what I was.

"Anakin's eyes remind me of Master Qui-Gon. Sometimes I even feel like I'm speaking to him instead of my apprentice."

_Good for you._

"He's been asking about you. He's seen your fighting style and is secretly intrigued by it."

_Secretly? So he hasn't told you? You heard it through the Bond? Is it that strong, then? So soon...?_ I think, too saddened really by something as simple as this.

"His attempts at stealth are not quite as sneaky as he thinks they are," he says, chuckling softly.

"I'm tired," I say, getting up. He seems confused and alerted and I hate myself for doing this but I have to cut off all ties with him. I have to stop myself from believing that he'll abandon this boy who obviously means the world to him for someone as stupid and selfish as myself. I have to leave. I have to. I must. For the sake of my heart. For the sake of the boy's heart. For the sake of his heart...

"Kirani?" he asks, getting up as well. I give him a short bow and walk out of the training salle quickly, ignoring Mikeil's questions of where I'm headed and what I'm up to.

"Kirani, wait!"

I hurry my steps and slip through the hallways, hoping beyond hope that he'll give up chase and let me be. My hopes are squashed when he grabs my wrist and pulls me back, turning me around to face him.

"What's gotten into you lately? You keep avoiding me, you won't even look at me, and when I talk to you you act as though you just got kicked in the stomach," he states aggravatedly, though keeping his voice hushed so no-one overhears us.

"Just let it be, okay?" I plead, and admittedly, my voice sounds rather lifeless and lame-spirited.

"Let _what_ be, Kirani?"

This is the whole reason why I got upset in the first place. How unimportant was I to him all these years? I never expected to be his number one, but don't I deserve a little more than this blatant disregard?

"What do you think?!" I snap at him.

"Look, I know we used to talk about you becoming my apprentice, but I was too young to take you on. There was no way I could do that to you. The Council would be unanimously against it. There just wasn't a way."

"You just don't get it, do you?!" The tears are obscuring my vision at this point and I look away and bite my lip to keep them from spilling over.

"Get what, Kirani? You keep talking in circles."

"I WAITED FOR YOU FOR SEVEN YEARS!"

There. It's out.

The tears are pouring down my cheeks and my shoulders are quivering and I just can't seem to find the air to breathe and I have to get out of here.

I turn tail and run. This time, he doesn't follow me.

Some birthday this has turned out to be.

* * *

A/N: Oh yes I did! Well if you can picture Rachel McAdams screaming it with tears in her eyes and dramatic music in the background, it just makes it so much more powerful and sad. I wanted to say 'six' or 'eight' years at first, but then I decided that it didn't sound dramatic enough so I actually changed her age to work well with this chapter in the story.


	15. Chapter 15: Padawan

Age: Twelve

Interests: duels

Dislikes: weakness

.

* * *

.

Master Dennen stands in front of me as I bow down low, all the way toward the ground, physically announcing my submission to him for the Council members seated in a circle around us.

"Initiate Zhun, from this day forth, Padawan you are," Yoda declares.

"Rise and face your Master," Master Windu orders. I do as he says and look up into the grey-white eyes of my new teacher.

"It is an honor and a pleasure to call you my Master," I recite the words I have been told to say, "and I shall serve you well and shall strive to learn diligently under you. From this day forth I am bound to your word and swear to uphold the dictations of the Jedi Code."

"It is an honor and a pleasure to call you my Padawan," he replies, "and I shall serve you well and shall strive to teach you to the best of my abilities. I swear to uphold the dictations of the Jedi Code and walk beside you in the Light from this day forth."

We both bow to each other again, three and a half seconds long exactly, and when we straighten up, we are dismissed. But before I leave the room, I catch the sad look Master Yoda gives me and wonder if he, too, had thought of this day in a different setting with a different light.


	16. Chapter 16: Pointless

Age: Twelve

Interests: duels

Dislikes: weakness, uncertainty

* * *

"Have you finished your studies?" Master asks. I have just finished setting the table and am about to take a seat and the questioning has already begun. I hate this part of the day the most. I wish I could say Master Dennen is nothing like I thought he would be, but the thing is that I had no idea what he was like when he took me on as his Padawan. I know what he thinks about me, but I don't really think anything of him.

I'm pretty sure that this is the way he wants it, though. I just can't, for the life of me, understand why that is. I have tried and tried to analyze him and see him for who he truly is, but all I can see is this shell of a person who used to exist. He seems like the perfect Jedi - calm and serene. But I can feel something odd in our half-assed training bond that suggests a sort of mild hatred for everything unworthy of his attention. As though to be a Jedi means to be perfect. Almost like if you're not perfect, you shouldn't even exist.

And I see it on his face every time I don't get full marks for my classes. I usually miss one or two questions max, which the rest of the class perceives as ingenius, but which he perceives as 'not done'. I see it in his slightly slumped figure every time I misstep during a difficult kata. I hear it in his voice whenever I'm a couple minutes late to a training session. And it wears me out.

"I have, Master."

"Recite the formulas you need to know for the test tomorrow."

I put down my eating utensils and do as he asks of me. He nods all the way through, and I can see his eyes darkening a little every time I take too long to think about the answer.

"Alright," he says when I'm done, "you know them, but you don't know them off the top of your head. If you wish to get full marks, you need to know them as well as you know your own hand."

For some reason, a pang of worry goes through me when I realize I don't know what my hand looks like that well at all. I quickly look down at it, hoping to memorize the pattern of my veins in under three seconds, as if such a thing is humanly possible. Luckily, he doesn't catch the action, as he is still droning on about the importance of knowledge in a Jedi's life.

When he's done eating, he stands up and leaves me with the words, "After you finish last meal, go over your katas and your work and meditate before bed."

"Yes, Master."

The light meal placed before me is bland, cold, and uninteresting. I play with the food a little before giving up on it and disposing of it. I clear off the table and wash and dry our dishes before going over my katas and work as my Master has asked. I yawn as I kneel down on my meditation mat, hoping to settle into a light meditation before bed. Lately, my connection with the Force has been mild at best, and I can't help but feel as though it is rejecting me.

It wouldn't be the first to do so.

Even my own Master doesn't even consider the thought of getting closer to me. Our training bond does not allow us to project feelings to each other, let alone thoughts. It mostly just lingers somewhere in the back of my mind, only letting its existence be known when he's very disappointed in me.

He hasn't even gone to search for a proper crystal for my lightsaber with me, yet. And we haven't been on any missions up until now, either. Meanwhile, Mikeil's Master is constantly doting on him and teaching him with a sort of ingrained ease that most Masters have. She's a highly intelligent woman and is actually rather funny for Jedi standards. I sometimes secretly imagine having a Master like that, but when my imagination wades into waters too deep for me to tread, I bite my tongue and bring myself back to the surface of my nugatory existence.

I haven't spoken to Obi-Wan since my birthday, and I mostly ignore his Padawan, Anakin. Whenever the occasion arises that we have to spar, though, I show him no mercy. I come down on him with a strength and brutality I never realize I possess until the match is over and he's lying on the ground, neck mildly burned and a look of nervousness and uncertainty in his eyes.

As for Shin Dan, he's off on another long mission. MinMin is off on a mission with her Master, too.

I feel so cut off from everybody lately. I haven't had any time to meet up with my friends, and whenever I see them, it seems as though they have found something new to laugh about that I just don't understand. My being here has never seemed as pointless as it does now.


	17. Chapter 17: The higher you get

Age: Thirteen

Interests: alone time

Dislikes: crying, bias

* * *

I blend in with the shadows on the walls as I slip through the halls, unseen and unnoticed by every passing Jedi, including the Masters. The hour is fairly late, but there are plenty of beings who pass me by without even looking at me or sensing me. Meanwhile, my Master is somewhere in this hallway, doing the exact same thing as I am, waiting for me to make a mistake so he can 'correct' it.

Lately, Master has found that punishing me for my inadequacies has managed to keep me from failing as much as I used to. He doesn't always raise his hand against me, but whenever I do something that is simply 'not done' as he likes to put it, he won't think twice before doing so.

But it's alright because I don't make as many mistakes as I used to.

* * *

"Kirani?"

I look up from the slice of bread on my plate. _Obi-Wan? What's he doing here? Doesn't he have a Padawan to attend to?_

"Are you feeling alright?"

It seems as though he has thought over coming to check up on me pretty thoroughly, for he seems to be regretting having done so right now. He looks uncomfortable and concerned and I pity the fool who finds the expression on his face an expression of care. Ah wait, that's me. If only Master were here to hear the thought. People on Naboo would be able to hear his laughter.

"Kirani?"

What was his question, again? Ah Force. I just can't seem to do anything right, can I?

"Is-"

"Excuse me, Master Kenobi."

I throw my breakfast down the garbage disposal chute and exit the refectory.

* * *

"Please spar with me!" someone whose name I can't remember demands.

"Can't," I reply, yawning.

"Please, Padawan Zhun. I must have a chance to spar with you."

"Excuse me," is my reply, and I squeeze my way inbetween the gap of this person's body and the doorway. I don't have time to spar right now. I still need to go over all of my lessons and prepare last meal and clean up my room and prepare my Master's data pads for his evening research. I can't busy myself with petty things like sparring with some person whose skills are obviously atrocious if they seek to learn from a Padawan.

"Kirani!"

That voice.

"Dan Zhun-Ah!" the uncharacteristic display of happiness lasts a total of two seconds before I smooth the expression on my face into Jedi serenity and allow my brother to envelope me in a bone-crushing hug. The warmth he continuously emits is present still and it feels nice not to feel like I have cold sludge in my chest for a moment.

"How've you been, Ni Zhun-Ih?" he asks, apparently not about to let go. Perhaps he hasn't been doing that well, himself.

"Mm, you know. How was your mission?"

Shiin looks me in the eye and shakes his head disapprovingly. "Come," he orders, and I obey.

* * *

It's been a while since I've been in his room. But I can still recall the feeling of utter happiness and safety that I felt whenever I would lie in his bed with his arms wrapped around me. And as I lay myself down on his bed now, it feels much the same, only in lesser amounts. Still, as he slings his arm around me and holds me tight, the added weight on my back feels soothing and cathartic. Slowly but surely, I drift off into a mind-numbing sleep.

When I awaken, it's to a feeling of utter terror and panic. Master!

"Force blasting SITH!"

"I don't think that's the proper way to greet someone," a very familiar voice chuckles, and I can feel the vibrations thrum through my ear.

"What's g-...?"

Obi-Wan. Carrying me. "What the Sith?!"

"Woah, easy."

"What are you doing?!" I hiss.

"You were sleeping."

"I asked you what _you_ were doing!"

"Bringing you back to your quarters. Your brother said I should hurry since your Master doesn't appreciate tardiness."

_You can say that again._

"He's also mentioned several other things your Master doesn't appreciate."

"Has he, now?" I mull over attempting to escape his hold on me but I'm too tired to actually but thoughts into action.

Obi-Wan gives me a serious look and says, "Kirani... has your Master ever... physically castigated you?"

I look away and sigh deeply.

"Have you ever been told what would happen to a Master if he physically punished his Padawan?"

This alerts me and I look up.

"Kira, you know what would happen, don't you?"

For a moment, I think away the lengthened ginger locks of hair and the tired grey in his eyes and I see my Obi again, teaching me something new because he wants to bring wisdom into my life- not for him, but for me.

But then he turns into Skywalker's Master again and I have to shut my eyes to keep the tears from showing. I hate crying so sithing much.

He seems to take the hint and stops talking. At least, for a while.

When we've almost reached my shared quarters with Master Dennen, he suddenly says, "About that day... I mean, on your birthday.."

"Hmm?" My eyes feel dry and swollen at the same time and I so wish I could just fall asleep in his arms and know that when I wake up, he'll still be there.

"You said something that - that I hadn't really thought about much until you said it."

_What's he talking about? He doesn't mean... Could it be?_

"And I want to apologize for not thinking about it from your point of view as much as I could and should have."

"Mph. S'okay," I reply, too tired to care more about his words than the fact that he's here with me.

"No. No, it's not."

I reach up and touch his cheek, eyes still closed and half-asleep. "Don't be sad," I mumble. I can feel the sorrow emanating from him very clearly through the Force, now, and wonder how and why it has suddenly come back to me. The Force seems to be singing through the air again and for the first time in over a year I feel completely and utterly safe.

But then he presses the buzzer and the feeling of safety vanishes into thin air.

The door opens almost instantly and I have trouble struggling out of Obi-Wan's hold as he is too confused to cooperate.

"Padawan. You were supposed to be here four hours ago."

"My sincerest apologies, Master. I fell as-" I can just imagine the reproaches and reproving look on his face when he finds out I fell asleep during the day.

Obi-Wan gives me a look of concern and I struggle to get the words out because I know it would be worse if he knew I felt rotten for saying these things to my Master. "I fell asleep."

"You fell asleep," Master Dennen repeats, seeming utterly bewildered. "Now tell me Padawan, does that display any sense of Jedi control?"

"No, Master," I reply, making sure my voice is loud and clear. "It is not. It is not befitting of a Jedi learner and I will do my best to make amends."

"See to it that you do. To start, you can meditate on the bad qualities a Jedi is not to have."

"Yes Master."

I don't look at Obi-Wan as I enter the living space and open the door to my room, hearing my Master speak in a hushed tone of voice to him. I shut the door behind myself and sink into a meditating position, certain that if I don't do what Master wants immediately and he finds out, I will get it big time. Though I'm not sure it'll be much worse than what I'm already about to get.

And after he and Obi-Wan bid their farewells, I am not disappointed and hear the floorboards creaking under the weight of his footsteps as he makes his way over to my room. He opens the door and I pull myself out of my halfhearted meditation so I can stand up with my hands behind my back and my head held high as I look half-way at him and half-way through.

"Padawan," he starts, sighing deeply. I realize he is tired of my constant disobedience and I'll bet he doesn't want to punish me at all and it's just me who's begging for it.

"You have once again neglected your duties as an apprentice. When you vowed to serve me as best you could, did you really understand the words that left your mouth or did you just prattle on about some nonsense you didn't understand?"

I open my mouth to reply, but he holds up a hand to stop me. "I don't want to hear your excuses, young one. I have no use for a Padawan who is so uninterested in her duties that she falls asleep so as not to have to do them." A shock of pure and unadulterated panic runs through me.

"Please, Master, please don't!"_ I don't want to be rejected again. I don't want to be tossed to the side!_ I clutch at the front of his robes hysterically, looking up at him with a pleading expression on my face. "Please don't send me away!"

"Send you away? I will do no such thing, Padawan. That would only reflect badly on my skills as a Master. You will, however, be receiving punishment. Hold out your hands."

I let go of his robes and do as he asks of me.

"Palms up."

I obey. He exits the room for a while and I wonder if he wants me to get up and follow him or remain kneeling on the ground. When he returns, he's holding a small, twig-like stick that seems fairly bendable. My only hope is that he doesn't decide to plunge it down my throat or into my eyes or ears.

"I will strap your palms with this fifty times each. You are not to make a sound, is that understood?"

"Yes Master," I reply automatically. The darkness of the room and my anxiety combined are making me dizzy, but I remain straight-backed and composed.

The first time the strap makes contact with my right palm, I am shocked by how painful it is, and have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. To think that ninety-nine more of these await me! I can't handle this and I'm sure of it, but I could handle being sent away even less.

"Count down," he says, and brings the strap down on my right palm again.

"One," I say, because I know he's waiting for me to say 'two'.

It cracks down again and I can feel my skin splitting, but don't make a sound besides mentioning that it's the second strap. It continues on like this until he switches hands and I try to cradle my hand in my lap with the palm turned upward to keep from most of the blood to smear onto my clothes, and he brings the strap down extra-hard on my left palm, ordering, "Keep that hand up!"

I struggle to obey as quickly as I can, but it hurts to stretch my fingers that quickly again, so I groan quietly.

"I told you not to make a sound!"

The strap comes down twice as hard as the last time and I can taste the blood on my lips.

When the punishment is over and he's satisfied with my posture, he orders, "You will stay in that position and think about your actions until I tell you to stop."

"Yes Master."

He looks at me expectantly and I look back, confused.

"Are you not going to thank me for this correction, Padawan?"

Oh. Right. I had forgotten. "I'm sorry, Master. Thank you for this correction, Master."

"Yes, you're welcome Padawan. Don't forget next time, or I might leave you with your flaws."

"I won't, Master."

"Remember that promise, Kirani." It's the second time he's ever said my name, and for some reason it sounds like some slimy insult when it comes from his mouth. He acts as though he's some reprimanding but conscientious Master who has been made many promises by his Padawan which have never been kept. And it infuriates me.

"Yes, Master."


	18. Chapter 18: Withering

**A/N: OK so I'm leaving on a school trip tomorrow for three days, so here are three chapters to keep my loyal readers happy :)**

_.  
._

* * *

Age: Fourteen

Interests: alone time

Dislikes: crying, losing

* * *

My opponent, Padawan Bleek, throws her blade down in frustration. She is obviously angered by her loss, but I feel no pride in winning. It has become a common thing for me, now. I _must_ win. If not, my Master will punish me. I _must_ be the best, for if not, people would think my Master a bad teacher.

"This doesn't make sense!" Bleek utters, "You shouldn't be able to do those moves, yet!"

I shrug. "How 'bout you don't throw a temper tantrum about it and bow to symbolize the end of the match so I can be on my way?"

She looks infuriated. I couldn't care less. Instead of acting on her festering emotions, I bow low so she can do the same and leave me in peace. I still have some homework that needs polishing up. When she finally returns the gesture, though not without a serious scowl on her face, I grab my outer robe from a stool off to the side and leave the training salle. As I exit the room, I hear Padawan Bleek muttering to some of the other Padawans about how unfair it is that I should get the 'privilege' of learning hard moves at an earlier age than them.

If only she knew how hard it was for me to control and master those same moves she so wants to learn. There's a reason why we aren't taught certain moves at certain ages. Physical capability is only one part of that reason. The other part is mental acuity and maturity. Master believes me ready to perform these kata's, though, so I simply agree and do my best to get the feel of them when he's not around to witness this. I used to get the feel of my saber techniques by watching Obi-Wan, but now that I can't stand being near him, I see no other way to control my kata's than looking them up in the archives and practicing them on my own. Don't get me wrong - it's not that I can't stand _him_. I just can't be near him. I can't remain calm and unaffected when someone dangles something in front of my face that I know I can't have. I just can't.

I enter one of the Temple gardens for my usual afternoon meditation when suddenly a young-looking human boy whizzes by my line of sight, laughing joyously. It doesn't take long before the blonde hair and pale blue eyes register and for a sick feeling to flood my senses. The tremendous knot in my stomach is as much of a warning as I'll ever get and it comes too late. Already I can hear Obi-Wan's neverending patience wearing thin and hear his reprimanding tone building in the back of his throat.

I would have made a much better Padawan.

No, I can't think that way. I may not think that way. If I do, it'll just ruin everything I've ever worked for.

But it's true. I would have.

He deserves better.

But don't I deserve better, as well? Don't I deserve somebody who chose me and only me?

It's not what I want, though. It's not. I never wanted this. I wanted what that boy has. That stupid boy who doesn't even realize how sithing blessed he is. But I'm not the Chosen One. He is.


	19. Chapter 19: Two Masters and Two Padawans

Age: Fourteen

Interests: alone time

Dislikes: crying, losing

* * *

"No, Master, please!" I haven't dared to speak to him in this way since- well, since ever, but I can't let him accept a mission with _those two_ without at least speaking my mind about it.

"Padawan?" he asks, affronted. As well he should be.

"Please, Master, can't we go on this mission with a different team?"

"Explain yourself."

"Yes, Master. It's that Anakin Skywalker -" the name sizzles as it rolls off my tongue, for no matter how many times I hear or say it, my heart still clenches a little every time I do, "he's the Chosen One, and would not benefit my training during the mission. He is the one Master Bilis was speaking of, Master. He is the one who only follows the Code when it comes out for him and he'll want to best me every second of the mission." The last bit comes off as childish, but honestly, I've even heard sweet and gentle Minearl complaining about the little brat who is in fact only a year younger than me. He seems much younger than that.

"If it's a petty argument you have with the boy, it is your problem to solve, Padawan, not mine. As for not following the Code, I sincerely doubt such a thing is allowed in the Temple, so do not lie to me, young one."

Oh, but how true it is. If only he would believe me.

"And on the contrary, Padawan, I believe the Chosen One would benefit your training during the mission quite well. It would give you a chance to pit yourself against someone of your own level."

Did he just compare me with that dolt?

"Yes, Master," I answer meekly.

* * *

I suppose it's a good thing I did, for if I hadn't, things would have been different right now. And I mean big time different. Not the kind of 'had I taken the elevator' different but like 'had I been born on a different planet' different.

* * *

I hate this. I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. Perhaps if I repeat it some more, I'll wake up in the Temple, where I can resume my daily lessons and work without having to deal with Skywalker's snoring.

I can't believe he's not even reading up on any of the mission details. Here I am, studying for hours on end, blue screen light itching my eyeballs as I fight to keep the fatigue at bay, and there's mister prince-ey-boy sleeping the hours away with in of his Chosen splendor. It's ridiculous!

But no matter how irritated I am, I know I must return to my studies and keep up with my Master tomorrow. And not just for my Master, but also to show our two companions that I'm the better of the two Padawans. I don't know why I feel the need to prove this so badly, but I do know that the feeling is there and no matter how hard I try to suppress it, it won't leave me. It simply lingers in the corners of my mind, trying to go unnoticed, like a pitiful bug.

So I set my mind to the datapad with all of the mission info on it, intending to best Skywalker in any way I can come first light. And if he's not up to the challenge, then all the better for me. I'll crush him like a worm.

The evil thought catches me off-guard and I take a deep breath. No matter how adamant Master is that I know all of our mission details, it is more important to be a calm and steady-minded Jedi. I should meditate for a while to clear my thoughts.

I drop into a meditating pose with ease and settle into the gentle currents of the Force, trusting it to guide me on a steady path of rest and quiescence. The power still hasn't returned to me fully, yet, but I can feel it stronger now, and am appalled at the way it marvels at Skywalker. It seems to dote on him the way it dotes on Shin Dan and it irks me. Shin Dan is fifty times the person Skywalker will ever be. Sith! I should stop being such an emotional idiot and actually do what I set out to do for a change! Master would be strapping my palms within a flash if he knew what was going on inside my head.

The light tingling in my hands acts as a forewarning, as well. I'm lucky nobody really questions the extra-long sleeves on most of my clothing, obviously from pulling at them too much. They probably figure it's my short stature or whatever that's the reason, as though we can't get specially fitted robes. But it's better this way. Master is right when he punishes me. He is correct in doing so. People shouldn't judge or question him for correcting my horrid behavior and punishing me for my bad choices and beliefs. He's merely teaching me the Jedi way - it's me that's the problem. It's me who needs the correction. I'm the one who acts impudent enough to warrant physical castigation. I have earned every one of these burning stripes on my hands.

The feeling of shame that hits me is overwhelming and I struggle to release it into the Force. It seems to sigh around me, probably realizing how hard it will be to suck up all of my devastation. Ah, I feel so bad for the Force.

* * *

Apparently, it felt bad for me, too. I'm still eternally grateful to the Force for setting me straight.

* * *

First light attacks my eyelids and I stifle the groan that utters how much I hate being a simple human being. I inhale sharply and stretch my limbs, trying to hide the satisfaction that comes with it from rolling across the bond. Not that I think my Master can feel much of anything of what I'm feeling, but who knows what being nearer to this human being that's such a beacon for the Force could do. The thought causes alarm-bells to go off in my head. Skywalker. Where is he?

I look around the room, sharpening my hearing through the Force to check if he's in the refresher, but he's nowhere to be found. Sighing, I head over to the 'fresher to clean myself up and start the day.

Once I've finished my morning ritual, I walk out of the little room with my head held high and head over to the cockpit.

And there's Skywalker himself, looking disheveled and yet clean. I am amazed at how he manages to do that until I see Master Kenobi sighing with a sort of mild affection and combing the boy's haphazard locks into an acceptable array with his fingers. Of course the boy finds a way to get his hair strewn in such a manner that he would need aid in getting it to look decent. I would bet all the Mindtwisters in existence that the most terrifying bounty hunter would like a little masked pat on the head from the person they admired most and would find a way to get exactly that.

Not that I'm comparing the boy to a bounty hunter. He lacks the skill.

I curse the evil voice in my head until it spits back, 'Obviously he was skilled enough to be noticed by Master Jinn and deemed worthy enough to be trained by Obi.'

I don't know if I hate it most for calling me unworthy or for dragging up that old name from the closed-off corners of my mind.

"Honestly, Padawan, what am I to do with you?"

The pain burns fiercely in my chest at those words - those oh so familiar words which my very own Master uses on me, too, only in a different context.

"Ah, Padawan."

Speak of the Devil.

"I trust you have read up on the mission details?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Do tell me who the senator's ex-wife's second cousin is."

Ah. Pop quiz time. The most stressful part of the mission. Lovely.

"Counselor Pitrik Solk, Master. Originally from Alderaan, moved to Bonadan to study law. Has three children, each studying law and competing for their father's position."

I can feel the Chosen One's bewildered gaze and suppress the smirk that tries to force its way onto my face. It's too early for a victory dance just now, anyway. I am positive that my Master has an entire list of questions he is planning to pose over the duration of the flight.

"And which city serves as a neutral ground for meetings between Talus' three native species and, as you must suspect I would ask, which species are they?"

"Nashal, Master, and Talus' three native species are the Humans, Selonians and the Drall."

"Good. Upon the banks of which river was Nashal built?"

"The, uhm, the... Mephyt river, Master."

Master gives me a look that means, 'you could have done better', but at least it isn't his 'not done' look.

"Yes, alright, and what is the capital city of Talus?"

"Dearic."

"Which is its third major city besides Dearic and Nashal?"

"Qaestar Town."

"Which is mostly dominated by?"

"A- spaceport, Master?"

"Don't ask me, Padawan, I'm the one asking questions, here."

"Spaceport," I repeat, certain that though Qaestar Town is where we're going to land, it may not be what my Master wishes to hear as an answer. I hate questions like these. It may very well be that he wants me to tell him that it is dominated by thugs and bandits, which is also very true.

My Master gives me a long, blank look, before conceding at last and stating half-heartedly, "Correct. You can prepare something to eat for yourself and meditate for an hour before returning to your studies."

"Yes, Master."

I can feel Skywalker's surprise emanating from him through the Force, though this is probably because he's not doing a good show of hiding it. My Master must feel it as well, for he adds, "When you're done, take a break and come find me."

Take a break _first_ and then come find you or is the finding you part of my break? Ah, Master, sometimes I wish you were more clear about these things.

What am I thinking? It is no fault of yours, Master, it is mine for not having the brain to understand you.

* * *

I find some pala crackers and greenberry juice in the ship's little kitchen and settle into one of the stiff-backed chairs for a light breakfast. I am not even halfway through my sheet of toasted pala when Master Kenobi walks in, saying something about being thirsty or whatever. Honestly couldn't give a Sith's ass. Alright, I admit, I was too flustered about being in a room with him by myself to really pay attention to what he was saying.

But when he pours himself a glass of greenberry juice as well and takes a seat at the table opposite me, I can't bring myself to think about anything but the fact that he's here and that it's been so long since we sat down for a meal together. It was back when Shin Dan was stealing food off Master Jinn's plate and Obi snuck me extra pudding with a helping hand from the Force.

I bite into the cracker as I attempt to push the memory back into the dusty crannies of my mind.

"Is that all you're going to eat?"

My head snaps up and a bit of pala toast that was stuck to my lip falls off and lands on the plate. Force! I can't even eat like a normal human being!

Obi- Master Kenobi merely chuckles lightly and says, "Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you."

"You didn't," I snap back, realizing too late that my mouth was full and flushing as I swallow quickly. When he doesn't respond, I take a long sip of juice even though I've just found out that it tastes like the back of my tongue in the morning but honestly any excuse not to talk is better than nothing.

He sighs and decides not to take the bait. "It's quite impressive how much you've read up on about the mission, Kira. I never make Anakin study our mission details as diligently as you obviously have."

The way he says it so empathetically makes acid flux my throat. "Well perhaps you should."

His eyes turn morose and his expression shifts into something far more weary than I should ever see on him. "Perhaps," he grants.

I look down at my plate, ashamed for having made him feel this way. For lack of a better response, I nibble on the remainder of my cracker and hope that he'll just stand up and leave me in peace before I make things any worse.

"And perhaps Master Dennen should grant you a little more freedom and respite from such rigorous studies."

No more of this. I slam my glass down onto the table. "I'll have you know Master Dennen is a great Jedi, Master Kenobi, and I wish you would not speak of my Master that way nor suggest such things."

Before I know it, he's got a tight grip on my wrist as he exclaims, "And is that why you bear such marks upon your hands?!"

I clench my fingers into tight fists, even though it is too late to hide the scars.

"No - I - it's because I-"

"Because you what, Kirani?! You weren't good enough?! You were disobedient?! Tell me now what you have done that would condone such brutal discipline!"

"I... made a mistake."

"People make mistakes-"

"Oh don't feed me that sithspit!"

"What?!"

"Don't tell me that 'people make mistakes' and 'the Universe is still a good place' and all that other kark! I don't CARE if you think this is unfair! Because honest to the Force, you have no idea what is more unfair than this, because you never cared yourself! You just don't care at all that if I don't have him, I won't have ANYONE and then I'll be all by my bloody self! You don't care because you never cared! All you care about is your precious Chosen One!"

My eyes are brimming with fat tears at this point but I stubbornly refuse to let them flow.

Master Kenobi looks about ready to slap me in the face for a second, but then he regains his composure and says, very steadily, "You are mistaken, Kirani. I care about far more than the Chosen One, whose name, by the way, is Anakin. And you are also mistaken in the fact that you will have no one if you don't have Master Dennen, for I can assure you that even though you may not feel like it is so, you do have me. You always will."

"You're lying," I snarl, "I never had you. It's the hard truth, really, Master Kenobi, but it's one I've made myself learn to live with."

"Why are you so adamant to underline this false fact?"

"Because it _isn't_ false. I realized this the moment you brought the wonder child into the Temple and introduced him to me as your new Padawan. And you can act as blind as you wish, O-Master Kenobi, but sooner or later you will have to come to terms with the fact that you are no different from your own Master when it comes down to choosing the Chosen One over the one who was devoted to you for years."

"No, I didn't - it was different."

"You're right, it was. You had already been his Padawan for several years. You had been ready to take the Trials, you had already enjoyed his teachings. I had not gotten that privilege, even for a second. Everyone had told me what a wonderful team we would make, year after year, and I turned down other Masters, year after year, until finally there were none who wanted me anymore. And look how that turned out. It's kind of pathetic, isn't it? I turned down all those other great opportunities simply to be denied by the one person I had waited for all that time. And without as much as a 'Sorry for the inconvenience'. No, I didn't mean jack shit to you. So really, in a sense, it was sort of different. But not much."

He opens his mouth to reply, shuts it, and takes a deep breath to calm himself before stating, "I am very disappointed in you," and leaving the room. I toss a dishtowel at the door in frustration, about ready to shout, 'Fine, then, be disappointed, see if I care!' but unable to really dig a hole that deep for myself no matter how angry I am. Suddenly shocked by the fact that I was, indeed, angry, I try my best to exude the forbidden emotion through the Force. Alas, the Force seems to be working against me, again. Perhaps it is for the better, as it replaces my rage with sorrow.

* * *

.

A/N: And the drama continues!


	20. Chapter 20: Went on a mission

Age: Fourteen

Interests: alone time

Dislikes: crying, losing

* * *

It is after my much needed shower from sparring with Master Dennen during my so-called break, that I find myself back into my shared room with Skywalker, whose Chosen arse is currently sitting on my bed. And holy Force is he flipping through my datapad?!

"Get up, drop the pad, and move away."

He shoots up and nearly hits his head against the low ceiling. "I- sorry, I was just -"

"I don't give a Sith's ass what you were doing, just cease this instant and kriff off."

"Jeesh, excuse _me_ miss stick-up-her-ass."

"You do not wish to insult the person whose datapad you just hacked."

"Oh, don't I?"

Within the blink of an eye, I have my 'saber's hilt pressed against his neck at an undangerous angle, yet still suppressing enough to let him know I have the skill to twist it effortlessly and place it at a not-quite-as-safe angle just as quickly.

"No," I declare, "you don't."

"Get off of me you sick sleemo!" He struggles against my weight and manages to throw me off-balance for a moment before twisting out of my grasp. We settle into our respective fighting poses, holding out our switched-off lightsabers in front of our bodies, ready to tangle.

"Padawan!" I suddenly hear Master Kenobi call from the cockpit. A few moments later we hear him calling for Skywalker again, but we remain in our defensive positions. And though we both hear the footsteps drawing nearer to the door, and we are both well aware of the 'emsnap-hiss/em' as it opens, neither of us move.

"Anakin!" Master Kenobi expresses, shocked, "What in the name of the Force do you think you are doing?"

"She was the one who attacked first! I was merely defending myself!"

I want to shout indignantly, 'Sure, right after you were messing with something that's not yours, you thieving twat!' but decide that it would be for the best to let Master Kenobi deal with his own apprentice without further goading. Plus, it makes me seem more in-control if I don't even feel the need to respond to the fool's blather.

"Is this true, Padawan Zhun?"

Kriff. I was not prepared for that.

"I instigated the use of combat," I concede.

"And what condoned such behavior?" he presses on.

"Skywalker hacked my datapad and refused to set it down and step away without argument."

"I admit it was wrong of Anakin to go through your datapad, but your response was completely out of line. There is absolutely no way I can let this go without letting the Council know about such irreverent conduct."

I know what I must say. I know the words that should leave my mouth are: 'Yes, Master Kenobi. I apologize for my unseemly behavior.' But instead, my heart finds a way to overcome the restraint of my brain and I growl,

"How does Skywalker even _begin_ to deserve respect after _hacking_ into my files?!"

"Stop being such an hormonal asswipe, Zhun!" Skywalker bites back and I am so ready to pounce on him and knock his teeth right out of his mouth but then Master Dennen steps in with all his calm and unruffled gracious splendor.

"Your emotions are out of control, Padawan," he remarks, and it feels like a slap to the face. I know for certain that his kindly pointed-out words are directed towards me, and it makes the sting of the chastisement that much more acidic. "You will follow me."

I make my feet move to do as he says, suppressing the urge to swallow away the clot of anxiety and fear that has tightened into a thick bundle in my throat. When I reach the doorway, though, he suddenly turns around and raises an eyebrow as he glances meaningfully at me, indicating the two other occupants of the room with a nudge of his chin.

I am mortified, but I know my place. Swiftly, I turn back around, drop to one knee on the ground as one would to their very own Master when showing severe repentance, and speak clearly, simmering with rage on the inside, "My apologies for my disgraceful behavior, Master Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker. I was thoughtless and immature and shall strive to improve my shameful conduct."

Skywalker looks victorious and smug and I'm about ready to tear him a new arsehole, but then I see Obi - _my_ Obi - look so utterly _somber_, even as he nods his agreement, and it makes my heart ache in an all-too-familiar way.

But then: "Come along, Padawan."

I rise and obey my Master, knowing what awaits me yet hoping beyond hope that perhaps if I am sorry enough he will let it slide. The trouble with physical castigation is that it doesn't seem to hurt anymore, after a while, and the bestower of the punishment always has to find something that will hurt _more_.

* * *

I lay curled up in bed, on my side, trying to heal the palms of my hands with the little knowledge I have of Force-induced healing. I try to ignore the thoughts racing through my head, the memories of what my Master said, but fail even this minute task.

_"You are not to lose control of yourself like that!" "Have I not taught you better than to give in to your emotions like some ignorant little child?!" "You are _Jedi_, Padawan, and Jedi do not give in to emotions like infants." "I have half a mind to send you back to the crèche, but the only good that would do is set us both on a path of destruction." "What are your plans to better yourself, youngling?"_

The worst part is always submitting to him and thanking him for the punishment at the end. I don't even mind the blood that snakes down my arms as I am made to sit with my palms raised high above my head for a standard hour. At least, not as much as the fact that he offers no consolation once the punishment is over. He doesn't even say something along the lines of, 'I trust that you will do better next time'.

Ahh, I suppose I really do not deserve any type of reprieve after everything I've done.

I am startled out of my depressing thoughts when Skywalker clears his throat and shifts to a sitting position on his bed.

"Um, Kirani, I wanted to say that I'm sorry for going through your stuff like that. It was disrespectful and wrong of me."

I try to utter a soft groan that should convey my utter disregard, but it comes out as a keening whimper and I bite my tongue as I curse my weakness.

"Kirani?" Skywalker asks, sounding worried. I can hear the rustling of sheets and pinch my eyes shut as I roll over to lie on my stomach, hiding my hands beneath my pillow and breathing through the pain as my sore palms graze the soft linen.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, go away." Oh come on, Zhun, that sounded entirely too pathetic.

"You don't sound fine."

"Kriff off."

"Look, I'm just worried about your wellbeing, okay?! We're on a mission! You can't be irresponsible and not let me know if there's something wrong because if I depend on you to be able to do something while we're out in the open, I expect you to be able to do it without any problems."

"Don't worry your pretty head over that, Skywalker - you won't be in charge of anything or anyone."

He doesn't seem to let the insult sink in long enough to get angry over it and says instead, "If you don't tell me what's wrong, I'll get Master Obi-Wan and he can check you over instead."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?" I can hear the challenge in his voice and the threatening steps he makes toward the door and sigh before painstakingly pulling myself into a sitting position without leaning on my hands.

"Fine. It's none of your kriffing _business_, but since you're so adamant that I show you because you obviously delight in other people's pain, especially after having them grovel at your Sithly feet, feast your eyes on this all you want, brat."

"First of all, I don't delight in other people's pain, and second- woh. Th-that needs to be looked at."

I pull my hands back again, hissing, "Are you an imbecile?! Oh, don't bother answering that."

He glares at me for a few, horribly long seconds. "You don't even deserve my pity," he snarls, turning back toward his bunk and crawling under the covers.

"As if I need something as nugatory as that."

The Chosen One shows a little more sense than myself and chooses not to reply, instead rolling over and turning his back to me.

* * *

When we finally land, Skywalker leaps off the aircraft with youthful vigour as Master Kenobi rushes off the ship as well, only for different reasons. Master Kenobi has never really enjoyed flying, and I'm sure he's happy to be able to set foot on solid ground. Personally, I don't really mind flying, but being stuck in a cabin with Skywalker is more than just headache-inducingly nauseating. But since Master makes his way down the ramp with controlled grace, I force myself to do the same.

Ugh. Kriffing Skywalker just doesn't know his place. Why is he walking so close to Master Kenobi? He should be one foot to his left and three and a half feet behind. Not two! Sithly idiotic slobbering dog.

"Keep your mind on the present, Padawan."

"Yes, Master." Force! Now I just emhave/em to be on high alert all day long to make up for my mistake. Good going, Kirani.

* * *

"The two of you stay here," Master Kenobi commands, pulling his outer robe back on as he thrusts a couple of knap-sacks at his Padawan. "Unpack and go over the mission details again. When you're done, some meditating would be fruitful. Master Dennen and I will go speak with the Selonian governer."

"Yes, Master." "Yes, Master Kenobi."

"And try and stay out of trouble, Anakin. I mean it, no sneaking around the palace or anything."

Skywalker sighs and runs a hand through his short-cropped hair. "Yes, Master."

Master Kenobi smiles shortly at his Padawan before turning around and heading for the door. My own Master gives me a look that means 'study hard and do not fail me' before following suit.

I head over to my room to unpack, ignoring Skywalker's, "Sooo... what now?" and trying to tune out the rest of his annoying jabber as he follows me into the room and continues talking about something stupid, no doubt.

I can't ignore his poking, however, and turn around swiftly to hiss at him, "Keep your hands off of me."

"Woah, hey, what crawled up your center and died?"

"I'd be happy to show you all the stars in the Galaxy if you don't shut your sithhole, Skywalker."

"Geez. Never mind. You're worse than a sacked Narian hooker."

"And you're about as great as a pile of jag-fly dung, but what can we do about it?"

"I'll have you know I'm far more powerful in the Force than you'll EVER be, Zhun!"

"How can you be so sure, huh, Skywalker? You don't know your own count! It's not 'cause you're the Chosen One that you have such a great Midichlorian count! Why don't you check it out before you start spitting around nonsense! You joined the Jedi when you were nine! You have like four years of training behind you. What kata are you on, the third?!"

"Eleventh!" he throws back before really thinking over his reply, and I snort.

"Well, how about you, then?! You didn't even get picked until you were twelve! At least my Master chose me instantly!"

"Please! Your Master died a few days after choosing you, no doubt 'cause the Force was doing him a favor!"

"Well at least my Master really WANTS me!"

"Well at least I have real TALENT!"

That seems to do it for him and he hurls his fist at me, but I evade it and give him a kick to his shin before grabbing a hold of the back of his neck and squeezing painfully. He retaliates by kicking me in the gut and pushing me back before turning around and trying to punch me in the neck but missing again as I move aside and give him a firm smack on the side of his head, really going for his ear but he manages to escape temporary partial deafness by a fraction.

He gets frustrated by his lack of landed hits, and I wonder why it's so important for him that he best me. Surely he realizes that I've had more training and that therefore, strength in the Force can only give him the upper-hand if he is really in-tune with it and not drawing on negative emotions? If not, then he's less of a Jedi than I give him credit for.

"You stupid good-for-nothing crybaby snot-nosed pod-breaking sandy-ass-crack poodoo-gorging Sith!" Skywalker cusses as he lunges his fists at me. I've grown tired of trying to hit him without doing any permanent damage so I stick to dodging and blocking. For my part, I must say I am holding up well what with those disgustingly untrue insults. To be honest, I thought I'd lose my cool way quicker. Of course, no one else is able to draw on my irritation as much as the holy Chosen One.

"For your information, I haven't ever done or experienced a single one of those items on your list of insults, so your dissing vocabulary needs some serious work. And, by the way, your left-handed punches need some work as well."

"Why you pitiful piece of crap!"

"Nope, wrong again – you're the pitiful one here."

All the while, I'm dodging his punches the way I did those five months working with my Master on solely evading frontal attacks. If only he were here to see this; he would be so proud.

And then I hear the door hissing open, and for a moment I am filled with a desperate hope that it is, indeed, my Master, and I turn my head to see but then Skywalker's fist connects with my cheekbone and shame, overbearing, overwhelming shame, suddenly fills me instead. I am frightened of my Master's reaction, and I am so very disappointed in myself for losing my focus for that stupid split-second that turned out to be the most important second in my life.

But it's not my Master.

It's Master Kenobi.

"Anakin!"

Anakin looks up at the scolding sound, and he quickly pulls his fist back and thrusts it at his side, hiding it from view as though he could take back the action if only he could hide the appendage from all sight.

Master Kenobi strides over to Anakin swiftly and seems to be struggling with himself not to grab a hold of Skywalker's slim shoulders.

"What exactly are you doing?!"

"I-we-she was being- well-"

"What are YOU doing, Anakin?" Master Kenobi grinds out, giving him one last chance to explain himself.

"I was fighting with Padawan Zhun, Master."

"And why is this?"

"We had a disagreement."

"I could gather that much. A disagreement of what?"

He flicks a look at me, now, and I find myself surprised by my own inability to maintain eye-contact with the Master. Before I know it, I have crossed my arms across my chest and I'm looking down at the carpeted floor with a contrite expression on my face.

"Kirani basically said that I was worthless, so I told her about the same and then we got into a fight." He's not only summarizing in a _very_ biased manner, but he's also making it seem as though I started the fight. And though it irks me, I can't find the words to explain this to Ob-Master Kenobi.

"Is this true, Padawan Zhun?"

I take a deep breath. "We wound up fighting, yes."

"I don't want to hear what I was already able to confirm with my own eyes, Padawan Zhun. I do, however, wish to know how it happened that two Padawans who were told to take care of certain other tasks wound up in a fist-fight instead, behaving worse than crèchelings and apparently incapable of being in the same room together."

"He was insistently touching my shoulder and I told him not to, anymore."

"Please! You were whining like a little-" Master Kenobi places a firm hand on Anakin's shoulder, quieting him instantly.

"He responded, I mentioned that I was not incapable of reaching out and smacking him across the face, we went on insulting each-other, he insinuated I w– wasn't good enough for a Master who truly wanted me," Force damn that stupid stutter, "and I told him he didn't have real talent like I did, and then we started fighting."

Master Kenobi nods shortly. "Who threw the first punch?"

I remain silent, hoping the Skywalker kid knows what's good for him and will just keep his sithhole shut as well. If we're both quiet, I don't have to rat him out (much as it displeases me, yet I'm no tattle-tale) and I won't get busted for being insubordinate.

"Who threw the first punch?" Master Kenobi reiterates, sounding tired and yet commanding in a scary way.

"I did, Master."

Stupid heinous little prick! Now it looks as though I started it and he's just taking the fall for me!

Master Kenobi breathes in deeply, places a finger underneath Skywalker's downward-facing chin and tilts it until the boy is looking up at him. "Padawan, I want you to go back to you tasks. I will speak to you tonight."

"Yes, Master."

That's it? He's being let off that easily? That means he really does think I'm the one who started the fight! Stupid Chosen One sticking his Chosen arse in the middle of everything! If only he'd left me alone, had let me do what I was told to do- if only we'd never gone on this mission together in the first place!

I am stewing in my thoughts so ardently that I don't really feel myself being pulled over to a chair in the kitchen until I'm actually seated in it. Master Kenobi is running a rag under cold water and twisting it to remove excessive liquid before heading over to me and pressing it gently against my cheekbone. He lifts my hand to the rag and I allow it, curling my fingers around the wet cloth and keeping it flush against my face.

"You know I can't just let this go, right?" he asks.

"Yes, Master Kenobi."

"You can rest assured that Anakin will bear the consequences of this as well."

I remain silent. The news truly should please me, but it doesn't give me much pleasure once I realize that my own Master will be made aware of our spat as well.

"Kirani. I will give you one chance, and one chance only, to explain something to me."

Oh no. Here it comes.

"How did your hands get so scarred up?"

Huh? That was not at all what I'd been expecting. How did he even know that it'd got any worse? Oh no – the cloth! He made me take the rag and he must've felt it! Oh no, oh Force no, no this can't happen right now! I'm in enough trouble as it is!

"I'm giving you time to think over your answer, Kirani, but only because I want it to be truthful. If you lie to me now, it will not be able to be overlooked."

"I-... that night on the ship- after Skywalker and I had- had a falling out... Master, well, he... p-punished me for my lack of control."

Oh blast it all. I can't even talk right.

"Am I correct in assuming that he's done this before, multiple times as a matter of fact?"

"Yes, Master Kenobi."

Master Kenobi nods shortly and stands up, and for a second I fear my heart may explode from anxiety. He's not going to go tell my Master that I told him this, is he?! I mean, it's the only thing I can see him doing right now, it's the only thing I could see _anyone_ doing right now!

But instead, he disappears into the 'fresher again and walks back out with another rag and a first-aid kit.

"Hold out your hand," he orders, and I obey. With a professional air, he first disinfects the cuts, though I've already taken care of that with the Force, but I can't blame him for being cautious, and then he presses the moist rag against the cuts to cool them. Afterwards, he spreads a clear coat of bacta gel over them and adds to the healing with his own Force energy.

He sighs then, suddenly. "How is it that you always manage to find yourself in these situations, Kira?"

The old nickname pierces my heart but I somehow manage not to show it and respond, "I don't know what you're talking about, Master Kenobi."

"Don't call me that."

"Then what should I call you?" I challenge, glaring at him. I hope he hasn't forgotten what his choices have done to alter the course of my life.

He sighs again and runs a hand through his hair. "Just- just call me Master Obi-Wan."

"That would suggest we are on equal levels or that I am your Padawan. As I recall it, Master Kenobi, we do not share a friendship of any kind."

"Is that so?"

I stand up. "Yes."

"And is it because of this that you shun my Padawan so? Is it because you bear this hatred toward me that you must reflect it upon Anakin?"

"What?! No!"

"Then tell me why you two constantly butt heads."

"It's not _my_ fault! _He's_ the one who's always trying to get on my last nerve! He- he just-"

"He just _what_, Kirani?!"

"He doesn't deserve you!" Oh Force.

He doesn't say anything and I try to find a way to take back what I said, but I can't. So I run.

I can hear him calling my name but I ignore it and head straight for the exit. Unfortunately, the Force has it in for me, because my Master chooses that moment of all the moments in the Galaxy to enter our suite and I physically recoil.

"Padawan," he greets, "what has you in such an undignified hurry?"

"Master! I- I was just leaving."

"Leaving? Where to?"

"I was going to find you, Master."

"And why is that?"

"I needed... I needed to speak with you."

"And this couldn't wait until later?"

"No, Master."

"Then, by all means, talk."

I am aware of Master Kenobi's presence, but it's better to swallow your pride and lose face in front of someone you admire (though Force knows why at this point) than to go against my Master's wishes.

"I, I needed to speak with you, Master, because I – sort of – lost control of my emotions."

My Master's eyes flash and I can hear a sigh escape from his mouth before he says, "Let's continue this talk in my room, Padawan."

I duck my head and follow him, but Master Kenobi intervenes before we can get very far.

"Not so fast, Master Dennen. I wish to have a word with you, myself."

My Master lifts a curious eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It's about your teaching methods, Dennen, and more specifically, your disciplinary methods."

Master looks at me quickly before turning his attention back to Master Kenobi.

"What appears to be the problem, then, Kenobi?"

"Why don't you take a look at your Padawan's hands, Dennen, and you'll see what I mean."

The cuts have mostly healed, but the scars are still there. Still, I curl my hands into fists and keep them that way.

"What's wrong with your hands, Padawan?" Master asks, the perfect mixture of concern and grace in his tone of voice.

"I-uh- nothing, Master."

Master Kenobi shoots me a bewildered look before stalking over to me and grabbing my wrist, forcing my fingers apart and shoving my palm up in my Master's face.

Master gives my palms one look before looking back at Master Kenobi. "What is it you wish to tell me about this?"

Master Kenobi's mouth actually drops open. "What do you _think_ I wish to tell you, Dennen? Your methods of disciplining your Padawan are leaving scars on her flesh! Are you actually going to claim that this is normal?!"

"I find it very normal, indeed, Kenobi. It is my right as Master to discipline my Padawan in any form I see fit. So long as it does not require a trip to the healers' I believe my methods are just and in-line."

"I had to heal _your_ Padawan's wounds! You can rest assured that I will contact the Council and tell them about this, Master Dennen, for you are, in fact, way out of line."

"Don't you emdare/em speak to me as though you know better than I," Master demands, tone tight and controlled despite the obvious anger, "for it is your Padawan who can not follow the Code, and it was your very own Master who was notorious for bending it to suit his ways."

"Be that as it may, you have commited a serious offense and I am not letting you off the hook anymore. Kirani deserves better than that."

I see this as my chance to intervene. "Master Kenobi, please! Don't tell the Council!"

"What?! Why not, Kirani?! You deserve much better than this!"

The sorrow in his voice allows me to speak the truth. "Don't you get it? I can't _get_ any better! I'm too old! No one well take me, anymore! Master Dennen was my last chance! And he's a good Master! He- he's good..." It's a lie, but I meant what I said before that. I had turned down too many good Masters in the past because I had believed that I would become Obi-Wan's Padawan, but when that turned out to be, well, less than true... Master Dennen truly was my only chance to become a Jedi.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Anakin emerging from our room and linger in the doorway, probably drawn by all the shouting.

"I'll take you."

I look up, shocked. "E-excuse me?"

"I'll take you," Master Kenobi repeats, "as my Padawan learner."


	21. Chapter 21: Rough Spot

Age: Fourteen

Interests: alone time

Dislikes: crying, losing

* * *

Master Dennen actually laughs. "And dump the Chosen One?"

Master Kenobi shakes his head, calm despite the obvious anger that is still in his Force aura, strong enough for even me to feel it. "I will go to the Council and tell them about this issue. They will accept my reasoning for taking Padawan Zhun as my own Padawan along with Anakin."

"And if they do not? Do not be foolish, Kenobi. Zhun will remain my Padawan and Skywalker will remain yours, and if you decide not to tell the Council of this little falling-out, I will refrain from telling them of this ridiculous idea of yours."

"Would you really do that, Master?" Anakin asks from his spot in the doorway, and Master Kenobi turns sharply to take in the little hints of dread he can no doubt see on his Padawan's face even though neither my Master or myself can. "Would you really take her as your Padawan, instead of me?"

"No, Anakin. Never. I am your Master."

"Then why would you say such a thing?" Skywalker demands, clenching his jaw.

Kenobi walks over to him and places a hand on his shoulder, muttering quietly, "Kirani is in a rough spot right now, Ani. It is the Jedi way to show compassion. I am sure you can handle anything I throw at you, as long as you trust me to make the right decisions. Do you trust me, Padawan?"

Skywalker looks up at his Master's face and nods tightly, causing Master Kenobi's face to break out into a smile as he claps his apprentice on the shoulder before running his hand quickly through the boy's hair and turning back around again. "Very well. This mission has officially been declared a failure so I suggest we contact the Council immediately to let them know everything."

Master exhales loudly, and I fear that he just might snap anytime soon. I've never made him as angry as I am sure Master Kenobi is right now and it makes me physically sick.

"Go ahead, Kenobi. Contact the Council. They will tell you the exact same thing as I have. In the meantime, I will go see Senator Ballon and see to the social crisis of Talus. Don't feel inclined to do your duty, Master Kenobi. Come along, Padawan."

I'm torn between following him and staying behind, wondering what would make this problem bigger and more unbearable. I decide that obeying my current Master is what's best. Perhaps, if I show the Council that I will obey my Master in all things, because I respect him endlessly, they will let him remain my Master. For, even though I feel no sense of respect or kindness toward him at all, he is still the only person I have in my life that will stay true to me no matter what.

* * *

When we return, Master Kenobi and Skywalker are in joint meditation, probably because Skywalker's too much of an idiot to meditate by himself. Or... perhaps because he's trying to persuade his Master not to try and take me away from Master Dennen. Maybe the dolt's not as stupid as I thought he was.

Master Kenobi resurfaces from the meditation first, probably sending calming waves toward his Padawan to let him know he is to continue meditating without him. The Master heads over to us and eyes us critically, speaking calmly, "I have contacted the Council. They have agreed to let you remain on the planet to finish the mission. Padawan Zhun will be returning to Coruscant with us and the Council will hear what her choices are without your presence there to interfere with her personal thoughts. When you have finished the mission, presumably within the next three standard days, you are to return to Coruscant immediately and the deliberation will continue from there."

"This is entirely asinine." I can only say that those are the most frustration-indulgent words I have ever heard come out of my Master's mouth.

"Be that as it may, it is what the Council has decided," Master Kenobi counters, "and so I shall follow orders. I suggest you do the same. Padawan Zhun, with me."

I make to follow him, but then I stop and turn around, giving my Master a searching gaze, hopeful for a sign of remorse, but all I can see on my Master's face is vexation.

"Follow him, Padawan, and set this right. You are capable." They are the most acclamatory words I have ever had the privilege of hearing from him, and though they should make my heart swell with pride, I feel like he is only saying them to win back my favor. But my heart can't be won with words anymore. Things have already gotten too banged up for that.

And if the way Master Kenobi's hand that rests on my shoulder makes me feel like I'm about to fall apart at the seams, I make do with convincing myself it's collateral damage.

"You should go pack up," Master Kenobi states, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze before heading back over to Skywalker. With a foggy brain, I start repacking the few items I had unpacked from my knap-sack. A standard minute or so later, the other Padawan is in our shared room, packing his things as well. The silence that hangs between us like fog is suffocating and makes the room feel stuffy and carbon dioxide-rich.

I want to say something to relieve the tension, but stop myself before I blurt something unnecessarily damaging. There is only one way I could fuck up whatever is to come from all of this, and that's by speaking my mind. I should probably think of ways to back out of a conversation without trouble. Perhaps I should just take a raincheck on speaking altogether.

I suddenly feel more weary than I have in years. Nevertheless, there is a tiny surging of hope burning a fiery glow in my gut that states there just might still be hope for me. I don't know how I'll fix this mess I've suddenly found myself in, but if the Force is pitiful enough to grant me small favors, perhaps it will allow me to find redemption for my sins at last. Perhaps Master's punishments have been sufficient, after all, and I can find some way to take back my rejection of other Masters' requests to become their Padawan.

… Or perhaps I was always supposed to be in the service corps. Perhaps these hands were meant to deal with packaging, or tending to plants or animals. Perhaps I just wasn't cut out to be a Jedi.

* * *

A/N: Nope, I would never destroy the Obi-Ani combo :) He still has to wreck the universe and whatnot ;)


	22. Chapter 22: But only one Master

Age: Fourteen

Likes: Silence

Dislikes: Stress

* * *

Things don't often go the way people want them to.

That is usually when we rely on the Force to see the bigger picture and perhaps let us know that even though we're facing immense sorrow, it's still a part of said bigger picture – it'll still serve to create happiness for someone else.

Perhaps my life was created just so that others could see how tragic their lives would be if they were me. Just so that others could be happier about their own lives.

* * *

I don't know if you've ever faced the entire Council on your own before, but if you haven't, let me tell you, it's one of the most terrifying things you'll ever do. Even if they're on your side.

"Padawan Zhun. It has come to our understanding that your Master, Master Dennen, has broken several of the Codes during your training. Could you tell us more about that?" Master Windu asks.

"Of course, Master Windu," I reply, "It was all just a misunderstanding, actually."

Master Windu exchanges a look with Master Yoda, but Master Yoda doesn't really look at me weirdly nor does he ask me any questions, so Master Windu continues, "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Master Kenobi's worry was not misplaced, Master Windu, it was just unnecessary. I can see how he would be worried for my welfare when he saw the effects of my Master's discipline, but he did not see the results, nor the cause. He did not know why my Master chose to guide me in such a way, so, as any other worried Master might, he intervened before hearing the whole story. I do not blame him for being compassionate. I appreciate Master Kenobi's concern, but, as I have already said, it was completely unnecessary."

Master Windu appears floored, but Master Mundi is not swayed in the least.

"Could you show us the effects of your Master's discipline, Padawan Zhun?" he asks, and I willingly open up my clenched fingers and show them my palms.

"Master Kenobi tells us he healed them before you got here and that he assumes you've done your own share of Force-healing on them. Is this correct?"

"Yes, Master Mundi." I can feel my heart beating erratically in my chest, now.

"Do you agree that this should not be necessary after a disciplarian act from a Master?"

"I-I know I shouldn't have done it. Please accept my apology, Masters, I succumbed to my pain, despite my Jedi training."

The Council seems voiceless at this, and I wonder if I really overstepped the line that badly that they could be so speechless. Are they planning on sending me away? No. It couldn't be. Could they really send me away for trying to heal up my hands? I realize I shouldn't have, but I'd figured it was a minor infraction. Nobody warned me of this! Shouldn't somebody have filled me in on this bit of info in my initiate years? It's not fair!

"Calm yourself you must, youngling," I suddenly hear Master Yoda's crackly age-worn voice utter, and I realize that I am shaking with anxiety and I try to control the shivers but it's hard and it feels like Master is watching and shaking his head reproachfully and for some reason I feel something acidic burning in the back of my throat but I can't swallow it away.

Out of the corner of my eye I watch one of the Council members head out quickly and walk in with somebody else, who heads over to me straight away. I clench the fingers on my right hand around my left wrist, trying to keep myself from shaking like an infant so this person doesn't need to see my shortcomings as a Jedi apprentice.

A warm hand on my shoulder helps me get the shivering under control, and a Force-induced warmth spreads through my body to help keep them at bay completely.

"Kirani."

I look up. Master Kenobi's deep blue eyes are gazing down at me imploringly, but I don't know the words that will make him take back everything he said to the Council and let me keep my Master. I don't know what I can do to make this whole dilemma just go away, and I am frustrated by my own helplessness.

"Take a deep breath," Master Kenobi instructs, and I obey, holding it for six seconds before letting it out again.

"Calm," he says, ever so simply, yet with a deep inflection that renders my muscles lax and uncoils my spine from pinching stress.

"Say, you have, that sorry you were for healing your hands, Padawan Zhun?" Master Yoda says when I am capable of picking up the conversation again.

"Yes, Master Yoda. I do not expect a reprieve from punishment, but please believe that I am sincerely sorry."

"Don't be silly," Master Kenobi states disbelievingly, but Master Mundi clears his throat and politely asks him to refrain from interrupting the recapitulation

"Believe, you do, that send you away we will?" Master Yoda asks, and I am surprised by how easily he can read my mind.

"I don't know, Master. I'm not sure what to think right now, to be honest."

"That is understandable," Master Gallia states, "but it is very important right now for us to know your thoughts and feelings on your Master."

"I respect my Master unduly." I just hope they can see the deeper meaning behind my words.

"Hm. Would you allow us to examine your Force-bond?" Master Windu asks, and I nod.

"Of course."

"Then please be seated, this could take a while."

I would prefer to stand, but I sit down in a meditation-position in the center of the room, shutting my eyes and awaiting the attack on my barriers, letting the Masters in to a certain extent without trouble. After a short while, I feel them withdrawing, and I open my eyes only to be met with shocked expressions.

I am about to ask why it was over so quickly, but my question is anwered before I have even opened my mouth.

"The training bond is dormant," a baffled Master Tiin expresses.

"Does she even have any sort of contact with her Master through the bond?" someone else asks.

"It makes no sense," another Master adds.

"With such a rate of inactivity through the bond..." another tacks on.

"Padawan Zhun," Master Windu breaks through the others' voices, "has your Master ever meditated with you?"

"No, Master Windu," I answer apprehensively.

Master Windu turns to face Master Yoda and they seem to be having a conversation through mere looks and glances before Master Yoda looks at me intently and asks, "Feel any resentment towards your Master, do you, Padawan Zhun?"

I open my mouth to answer in the negative, but Master Yoda holds up a hand and says, "The honest answer of vital importance it is," before I can.

I take a moment to think over my answer and then say, quietly, "I don't really feel a very great connection to my Master, and I admit that sometimes I get jealous when I hear how my friends' bonds with their Masters are, but I feel no resentment towards my Master. He is, and always will be, the one who saw my potential and was willing to look past my flaws to take me on."

"Willing to continue your training with him, you are?"

"What?" Master Kenobi protests indignantly.

Master Windu holds his hand up and looks at me intently, saying, "It is your decision, Padawan Zhun."

"I would be honored to continue my training with Master Dennen."

"Sad to hear that, we are. Bad news, it is."

I look up at Master Yoda with a confused expression on my face.

"Closed off your Master was from the Temple for too long. Sheltered himself inside the Code, he did, until understand it he could no longer. Fear he caused the same reaction in you, we do. A chance, there is, that you are reaching out to the Dark side."

"E-excuse me? I'm not reaching out to the Dark side, Master Yoda!"

"Know this how, you do? Turned your heart away from the Force, you have. Shut yourself away from the Light, you did. The Dark side, prey on negative emotions, it does."

I was getting mildly frustrated with their accusations, but I could see reason in what Master Yoda was saying, so I didn't act surprised or miffed when Master Windu suggested that the Council perform a mind sweep on me to see if I was still rooted firmly in the Light.

"We will not lie to you, Padawan Zhun. A mind sweep can be very painful, especially without someone whom you can rely on calming you through the bond."

"I can handle it, Master Windu." Of all the things I've been faced with recently, I'm sure this pain is going to be the least of my problems.

He doesn't seem one bit convinced, though.

"Close your eyes and turn your focus inwards, youngling," Master Poof requests, and I obey.

Before I can ask them, beg them, scream at them to stop, a piercing pain, a white-hot agony, shoots through me, focusing mostly on my head. My arms are too numb to get them to cooperate and grab a hold of my head so that perhaps I could just squeeze the painful voices and thoughts out with a little pressure, and my throat is too dry to produce any more than an agonized gust of air.

It's only the utter anguish that convinces me I'm still alive.


	23. Chapter 23: Came back

Age: Fourteen

Likes: Silence

Dislikes: Loneliness

* * *

Afterwards, I was told that it wasn't supposed to hurt that much.

I tried to make that piece of info link to my Master's sudden demise, but the other Masters assured me that considering our bond was basically near-nonexistant, there was no way I could have felt his passing into the Force.

But I think that there was some small, translucent thread that was trying to wrap around my Master's heart and pull it towards me, that felt the utter anguish of being cut on a whim.

I don't think I could tell you that I was completely okay with his death, because that would be a lie. I can't tell you that I wasn't shocked by the news, because that would also be false. But I can't tell you that a piece of me didn't feel lighter when I found out.

In truth, no-one had really anticipated his demise, not even Master Yoda. He believes this is because my Master was so firmly rooted in the ways of the past, that he had forgotten how to connect with the present. I don't quite understand what he means with that, and how that could withhold Master Yoda from anticipating his passing, but I suppose it's not for me to know just yet.

Some would say that my being free of him is a good thing.

But they would be wrong.

Quite obviously.

He was the only chance I had of becoming a Jedi. The only chance.

I'd rather have taken his remoteness, his monotonous emotions and conduct, his strictness, his unjust discipline, even his stupid morning scheduals, than gone to the Service Corps.

But now it seems I don't have a choice.

I can feel the tears streaming down my face, rolling down my cheeks and falling to the floor, exploding like tiny aqua bombs and sticking to the walls like plasma. My sorrow is surrounding me and staring me in the face.

And to tell you the truth, the loneliness hurts like a bitch.

* * *

A/N: Kablamaroo death to Xarenoo  
What now?


	24. Chapter 24: My Most Precious Love

Age: Fourteen

Likes: Calm, Certainty

Dislikes: Solitude

.  
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* * *

.

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"Kira!" Mikeil shouts, running up to me. It's almost as if I haven't seen him in years, for he has changed so much since I've last seen him. His hair has grown out a bit, so that he could pull most of it up into a short nerf-tail and the rest is left as a white, shaggy, half-decent coupe. The hypnotizing mixture of amber and blue in his eyes has dulled down a bit but hasn't completely lost its sparkle, and his jaw has grown stronger as his overall features have grown sharper. He seems like more than just an adolescent.

He looks like... like a man.

"Where've you been all these months?" Mikeil demands to know, hugging me tightly. The moment his strong arms enfold my body, I feel like all my recent troubles and worries have just floated away. The moment is over far too soon, though, and I have to come up with something halfway decent to say before he thinks I'm brain-dead.

"It's only been a few weeks, moron." Well that didn't come out quite the way I wanted it to, but it's Mikeil, so hopefully he'll understand.

"You know what I mean. Before you left on your mission, you were just floating in and out of the training salle. This is the first time I see you actually meditating in one of the gardens."

"Master wanted me to meditate in my room."

"Oh? What changed his mind?"

"He's dead." Why the sith can't I speak like a normal person? Why must everything come out so bluntly? And why am I able to think these thoughts but not put thoughts into action and actually _do_ what I want to do?!

"Oh I'm so sorry, Kirani." He leans in to hug me again, and I wrap my arms around him this time, savouring the warmth and energy that pulses around his person like a beacon of hope.

"S'alright," I reply, even though it really isn't, and I press my face against his shoulder to hide the tears that are creeping up into my tear ducts. The sithspawns.

He smells differently than I remember. He hasn't lost that glimmer of mischief in his eyes, but the scent of soot and earth that used to linger on his person from our many travels to faraway imaginary worlds has left him completely. Now, he smells more like lightsaber burns and the archives. He even smells a bit like Master Hara's hand lotion.

"Hey, d'you wanna' go to our secret spot?"

I look up at him, feeling much like a suffocating aquatic lifeform that has been granted a droplet of water.

"Do I ever," I reply, and I don't pull away when he grasps my hand and tugs me along, the way I used to do for him when we were little. He hadn't perfected his Force-seeing abilities, yet, and even though he really was perfectly capable of getting to our secret spot without tripping nonetheless, we were both constantly worried that he might slip on a translucent puddle of something or other or that he would misjudge some or other distance and run smack-dab into a wall or something stupid like that. And when he grew out of that paranoia, I remained firmly rooted in it.

It's ironic that he should do this for me now, as though I am suddenly the handicapped one, because I suppose that, in a way, I am. It's my turn to take his hand and accept his help. But how much longer can I just accept the pity of others? I don't want to be the one always asking for help. It's horrible of me, but I want to see someone else undergo some kind of tragedy, too.

Why am I always the Force's scapegoat?

* * *

The air in the spare star-gazing dome is warm, heated to ward off the imaginary chill of space. Nobody really uses this dome but the occasional Master who might need to explain something while Master Yoda is using the other dome, but those chances are slim to none.

I can feel the warm air passing through my lungs, inflating them, and I inhale to that point of near-pain that stings beautifully in your chest and glorifies exhalation.

He rests his hand lightly on my arm, and I turn to look at him, but he isn't looking back at me. Instead, he uses the Force to activate the dome and bathe the room in starlight.

He zooms in on Abregado-rae idly, as though not really aware of what he was doing, before moving on and flipping through solar systems without actual purpose.

"Where would you like to go, miss Zhun?"

"Take me to Tatooine," I say, because if there's anything I wish I could change about the past, it's the day Master Jinn encountered a certain bright-eyed slaveboy. If I had to do the Universe well, I would ask to trade places with Skywalker, so that the Temple may have its Chosen One without putting me through further misery. As a slave, at least, I wouldn't have to think or feel for myself.

"Shall we peruse the dunes?" he asks, raising his eyebrows seductively, and I smile for his sake.

"As long as you don't get sand anywhere I don't want it, bring me anywhere you want."

He smiles back and grips my hand tightly, pulling me up gently and linking arms with me before walking around the dome slowly, leading us through the many constellations and lights inhabiting the space in the room, telling me a little something about every planet we pass. It reminds me of the many times he practiced his Force-sight with me, relying on my arm to pull him back when he was about to bump into something.

The close contact feels as soothing as it did back then, and he seems to notice, for after a while he stops and comes to stand behind me, encasing me in his arms from behind, squeezing extra-hard in a familiar, teasing way and softly humming a crèche lullaby in my ear.

"We're not six, Mikeil," I snort, turning around and gazing up into the mixed colors of ocean blue and light amber in his eyes, focusing intently on the soft curve of his lips, on the way one corner quirks up and forms a crooked smile. They look soft – softer than my own. Pinker, too.

He rests a gentle hand on my cheek. The peaceful expression on his face turns pained, and for a moment I wonder what could be troubling him, until I realize that it's me. It's me who's troubling him. He pities me.

"Don't look at me like that, Mik. I resent pity."

"I don't pity you, Kira. You have far too great an amount of my respect for that." He warms my other cheek with his free hand and cradles my face, causing heat to rush into the tiny blood vessels in my skin, no doubt warming his fingertips.

"You know, your fifteenth nameday is coming up," he mentions casually. I raise a brow at him.

"Yeah, so?"

"So I was thinking we should do something."

"Like, together?"

"No, I was thinking more along the lines of you holed up in your room and me holed up in my room telepathically wishing you a happy nameday._ Of course_ together. Dingbat."

I push against his shoulder. "You could understand my confusion seeing as I won't be here for my fifteenth nameday."

His expression shows open shock and confusion, and, bare for my very eyes to take in, a mixture of panic and sorrow between the folds of creased skin. It worries me that he will probably take this hard, and that he doesn't have many other good friends to fall back on once I leave.

"What do you mean?"

I take a deep breath. "Well, my Master passed away, Mikeil."

"So?"

"Don't act like an idiot. You know what happens to Padawans when their Masters pass away."

"They get taken on by another Master."

"Yeah, when they're still young enough. But as you've already mentioned, I'm going to turn fifteen soon. It's too late for me."

"No, it's not! It's never too late!"

I back up and turn away from him. "Don't do this to me, Mik. Don't make me hope." A hot tear slides down my cheek and I wipe it away bitterly. "I've had enough of that."

He marches up to me and turns me back around again, gripping my shoulders tightly. "Well, I haven't! And if you won't, I'll hope for the both of us! There's a reason why the Force brought you to this place! There's a reason why you're in the Temple!"

"I know!" I shout back, "I know what my part is in the Universe, Mikeil! I'm the scapegoat, okay?! I'm the Force's sithing scapegoat!"

"You're the what?"

"The scapegoat! I'm here so that others may look upon me with pity, so they could gloat and feel better about themselves!"

"Do not be a fool!" he snarles.

"Then do not take me for a fool!" I spit back.

"So do you see me as one who feels better about himself whenever I see your sorrow?"

I look down. He grabs my chin and makes me look up. "My eyes may not see much, Kirani, but I can see it when you're sad. And let me tell you, it makes me feel not a single ounce better about myself. If anything, I feel mightless, for I am powerless to keep these things from happening. I could not become your Master, so that you would not have felt the need to agitate over becoming a Padawan, and I could not stop your Master from dying. The only thing I could do was be here for you, but you fail to see my true intent. I wish to be enough, Kirani, that you could see me and not feel any of these horrible feelings that are pulsing around your Force aura."

I look away. "What are you saying, Mikeil?"

"I will turn sixteen soon. You will turn fifteen. The Masters will not have the ability to keep us apart."

"You presume too much. I never told you I feel the same way."

He leans in close and whispers in my ear, "But you do."

I push him away, laughing. "Very slick, Mikeil. Really. My knees are weak."

He holds his chest in mock-hurt. "You wound me. I was so certain I had the techniques of the holo-vid down-pat."

I chuckle. "You will require more than a holo-vid to smooth over your gruff manner of flirtation."

His gentle hand reaches out and he holds a lock of my hair between his thumb and forefinger. "I will never get used to the way you do things, Kira. You keep denying the best wishes for your happiness. Only... Usually you do these things because you believe you can and will get someone better." He lets go and backs up, turning his back to me. He enfolds himself in his own arms as though trying to keep himself from falling apart, and it breaks my heart to see him this way.

I walk over to him and rest my cheek on his shoulder. "You mean more to me than all the moons in the galaxy, Mik. I just can't make myself feel something for someone whom I shall never see again."

"But you already feel it."

A few seconds of silence, in which neither of us look at the other.

"I do."

"Then why must you deny it?" he responds hotly.

"Because attachment is forbidden, Mikeil!"

He turns around and glares at me. "Well if you are so keen on leaving the Order, why do you care so much about the Code?!"

"You are fast becoming insufferable, my friend."

"Don't talk like some old hachu-tha, Ki! You know I only say these words because I care about you. And I know you care about me, too. The only thing I do not understand is why you have to deny these feelings."

"Because I can't do it to you, alright?! You're the best thing that's happened to me since coming to the Temple, and I can't stand the thought of making you care for something which you can't keep! I can't bear it!"

He plants his palms on my cheeks and holds my gaze firmly. "You won't have to. I swear it. I swear it upon my honor as a Jedi you will never have to feel like I am not with you. I am always going to be by your side, Kirani. Always."

And then I do a very stupid thing and allow my arms to reach out and pull him closer to me so I can align my lips with his and kiss him, as though I just needed that extra push to seal my doom.

For, if there were anything I was bound to lose from the very start, it would without a doubt be my most precious love.

.  
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* * *

A/N: Ah... So dramatic. Love can seriously be a btch. Sorry for making this so ... well, mushy. They're adolescents talking like people from Braveheart or The Notebook or Dear John or whatever. I just wanted to infuse some melodramatic love into the story.

Also, about the way they talk: they're Jedi initiates from Coruscant and have been taught to speak like respectful, classy diplomats. But, on the other hand, they're still teenagers, and they're still in love, so they'll be emotional, too. I seriously can't write a story wherein the only thing that matters is whether you're a good Jedi or not. I'm trying, but in fact I believe it's something that you learn along the way. I don't really think there's a real problem with emotion, as long as you don't let it control your decisions. The problem with Kirani is that she's just repressing her emotions instead of letting go of them completely and that's why they sometimes just burst out of her. I know, I know, 'been there, done that, stole the T-shirt'.

Still. That's my story. Yeah.


End file.
